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 Somalia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Dave Clark Five to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cramps,
The Star Department,
Deepchord,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Whodini,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
Magma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Count Five,
Animal Collective,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra,
Audionom,
Crime,
The Slackers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Cell,
Fugazi,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
Cymande,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Motions,
Leonard Cohen,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Velvet Underground,
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
Section 25,
Steve Hackett,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lucky Dragons,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Rekid,
Black Moon,
Peter and Kerry,
The Shadows of Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sound,
Kayak,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.