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 Namibia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe 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 Joensuu 1685 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Ituana,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Peter and Kerry,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bluetip,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Patti Smith,
Rapeman,
Brothers Johnson,
Charles Mingus,
Bill Near,
Idris Muhammad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
48th St. Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Matthew Bourne,
Dave Gahan,
the Bar-Kays,
Clear Light,
Deepchord,
World's Most,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
In Retrospect,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Suicide,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
Livin' Joy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
Scan 7,
June Days,
Alice Coltrane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Rosa Yemen,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.