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 Haiti and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
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 Whodini to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Scott Walker,
Warren Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
Ponytail,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nas,
Fugazi,
EPMD,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Style,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Velvet Underground,
Simply Red,
Tom Boy,
The Fall,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Moon,
Roxette,
Joey Negro,
The Seeds,
Stiv Bators,
Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Rundgren,
Morten Harket,
Cymande,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
Shuggie Otis,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
Ossler,
Danielle Patucci,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.