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 Burundi and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Average White Band,
Buzzcocks,
Blancmange,
New Age Steppers,
Absolute Body Control,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Five Americans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
Arab on Radar,
Scott Walker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Technova,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
Wasted Youth,
Fluxion,
Kaleidoscope,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pagans,
Fear,
Ice-T,
Freddie Wadling,
Ten City,
Adolescents,
Franke,
The Count Five,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Suicide,
Urselle,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
Delta 5,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rod Modell,
The Slackers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
Porter Ricks,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Durutti Column,
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.