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 Yemen and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Reagan Youth to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
The Dead C,
Groovy Waters,
Kenny Larkin,
Colin Newman,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Starr,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Neon Judgement,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fortunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Newcleus,
Arcadia,
the Normal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tommy Roe,
Carl Craig,
Pulsallama,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quantec,
The Gap Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
Joy Division,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Last Poets,
EPMD,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
Intrusion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare,
The Offenders,
The Selecter,
Organ,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angry Samoans,
Byron Stingily,
The Golliwogs,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
Hashim,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.