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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Slick Rick 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Motorama 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Skriet,
Youth Brigade,
New Order,
The Doors,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Glenn Branca,
Quantec,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
Sparks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
Cluster,
Man Parrish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skaos,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gladiators,
the Sonics,
Pulsallama,
UT,
Black Moon,
Warren Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Basic Channel,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric Copeland,
Grey Daturas,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Easy Going,
Dark Day,
The Techniques,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maleditus Sound,
Y Pants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alison Limerick,
Los Fastidios,
Lalo Schifrin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.