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 Cyprus and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Lucky Dragons to the disco 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Idris Muhammad,
Godley & Creme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
the Association,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Depeche Mode,
Jacob Miller,
Chris Corsano,
Massinfluence,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Amon Düül II,
Morten Harket,
Clear Light,
The Fall,
The Names,
The Smoke,
MC5,
Hardrive,
Neil Young,
Black Sheep,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Happenings,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fear,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marcia Griffiths,
FM Einheit,
DNA,
Pylon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joe Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Fort Wilson Riot,
JFA,
The Sonics,
Newcleus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Toasters,
Cal Tjader,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
Slave,
Lower 48,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brand Nubian,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.