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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the dance 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
Qualms,
The Fortunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Saccharine Trust,
Arab on Radar,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Television,
The Tremeloes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Fear,
Model 500,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABC,
Vladislav Delay,
Franke,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass,
Aswad,
Dave Gahan,
Bauhaus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Last Poets,
Minnie Riperton,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
Excepter,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Funkadelic,
Minutemen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Accadde A,
Cymande,
Rod Modell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Supertramp,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
Unrelated Segments,
Swans,
Surgeon,
Clear Light,
Electric Prunes,
Eurythmics,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.