Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from United States and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Marine Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Henry Cow,
DJ Style,
Slave,
Eve St. Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Slits,
Flamin' Groovies,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heaven 17,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
E-Dancer,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
Jerry's Kids,
LL Cool J,
Bill Wells,
Quando Quango,
Hardrive,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
David Axelrod,
Don Cherry,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
The Busters,
Icehouse,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
CMW,
Pulsallama,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.