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 Haiti and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
Lalann,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
New York Dolls,
Delta 5,
Mr. Review,
Japan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
Maleditus Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Andrew Hill,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Public Enemy,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Wyatt,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camberwell Now,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Connie Case,
Deepchord,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
Sonic Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rakim,
Gang of Four,
Erykah Badu,
The Pop Group,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hoover,
Stetsasonic,
Siglo XX,
Crash Course in Science,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
The Misunderstood,
Clear Light,
Swans,
Ten City,
Youth Brigade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.