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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Hong Kong and Spokane.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Sparks,
Ronnie Foster,
Rekid,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Matthew Bourne,
Fear,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Golliwogs,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joensuu 1685,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Sex Pistols,
Cluster,
Anakelly,
Gang of Four,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sound Behaviour,
Guru Guru,
The Buckinghams,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Make Up,
Arthur Verocai,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sonic Youth,
KRS-One,
Robert Hood,
Barbara Tucker,
kango's stein massive,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
The Wake,
One Last Wish,
Eden Ahbez,
The Slackers,
Darondo,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
James White and The Blacks,
Infiniti,
Mad Mike,
Tres Demented,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Silicon Teens,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.