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 Albania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Popol Vuh to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Mantronix,
Wally Richardson,
The Fortunes,
The Cramps,
Technova,
Neu!,
The Dead C,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Lucky Dragons,
Suburban Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chrome,
Magazine,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Organ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Darondo,
Cal Tjader,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eurythmics,
Brass Construction,
Jacques Brel,
Pierre Henry,
Jawbox,
Masters at Work,
Heaven 17,
Graham Central Station,
Stiv Bators,
Ronan,
The Moody Blues,
Simply Red,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arcadia,
the Slits,
Henry Cow,
Easy Going,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Fatback Band,
Flipper,
The Zeros,
Section 25,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
Newcleus,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Outsiders,
Sparks,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.