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 Portugal and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roxette to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric Copeland,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Pantytec,
Fluxion,
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
Urselle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Erykah Badu,
Rufus Thomas,
Trumans Water,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
Rosa Yemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Danielle Patucci,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Terry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Don Cherry,
Q65,
The Gun Club,
Dead Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Tears for Fears,
Roxette,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
Buzzcocks,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
Bang On A Can,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
The J.B.'s,
Aaron Thompson,
Vladislav Delay,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
James White and The Blacks,
Theoretical Girls,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.