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 Mali and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Magma to the funk 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Unwound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joyce Sims,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cramps,
Wire,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
X-101,
The United States of America,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delon & Dalcan,
Interpol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warsaw,
Skriet,
Magma,
CMW,
Cheater Slicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeru the Damaja,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Moon,
The Gap Band,
Jerry's Kids,
John Cale,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alphaville,
Rotary Connection,
Intrusion,
Harmonia,
Moss Icon,
Mark Hollis,
Swans,
UT,
Supertramp,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman,
Boz Scaggs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.