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 Brazil and from Cairo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sixth Finger to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Gang of Four,
Cal Tjader,
New York Dolls,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Slits,
Simply Red,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Marvin Gaye,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
Funky Four + One,
Intrusion,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Index,
H. Thieme,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
World's Most,
Popol Vuh,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bad Manners,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camouflage,
Inner City,
DJ Style,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grauzone,
Basic Channel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Television,
Lower 48,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.