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 Tunisia and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord 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 Pierre Henry to the crunk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Isaac Hayes,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Hill,
Erasure,
John Lydon,
Glenn Branca,
Black Flag,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Thompson Twins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Christie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Mills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sparks,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
Los Fastidios,
Darondo,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
U.S. Maple,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultravox,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
June of 44,
The Fall,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Görl,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donny Hathaway,
These Immortal Souls,
Lalann,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yaz,
Dave Gahan,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Rundgren,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.