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 Liberia and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Infiniti,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
Chris & Cosey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra,
Blancmange,
Hardrive,
Black Flag,
China Crisis,
Royal Trux,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Scientists,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
The Gap Band,
EPMD,
Nas,
Malaria!,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tres Demented,
Arthur Verocai,
Half Japanese,
Groovy Waters,
Loose Ends,
Gang Green,
The Kinks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Flipper,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Juan Atkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
Don Cherry,
The Techniques,
Marvin Gaye,
Susan Cadogan,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.