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 Colombia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grunge 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Susan Cadogan,
kango's stein massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Kinks,
Skaos,
Quantec,
Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Kurtis Blow,
Rod Modell,
Fatback Band,
Make Up,
Blancmange,
Procol Harum,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Erykah Badu,
the Association,
David McCallum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grauzone,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ponytail,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
Jeff Mills,
Sandy B,
Kaleidoscope,
Roger Hodgson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
F. McDonald,
Theoretical Girls,
Japan,
Faust,
Parry Music,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Isaac Hayes,
New York Dolls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Michelle Simonal,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
Panda Bear,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.