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 Bangladesh and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Clear Light to the dance 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
the Human League,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
Rotary Connection,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agitation Free,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Davy DMX,
A Certain Ratio,
Scratch Acid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Knickerbockers,
Magma,
Vainqueur,
Agent Orange,
Unwound,
Peter and Kerry,
The Move,
The Human League,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Underground Resistance,
Nico,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Dennis Brown,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
Oneida,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.