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 Spain and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
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 mellotron 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 New York Dolls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ronan,
Accadde A,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funkadelic,
Bluetip,
Los Fastidios,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Franke,
Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jawbox,
Organ,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roger Hodgson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Camouflage,
cv313,
Sixth Finger,
The Knickerbockers,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Clear Light,
Lyres,
F. McDonald,
Ultra Naté,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
EPMD,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aaron Thompson,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Lalann,
Slave,
Sandy B,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.