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 Madagascar and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Chris Corsano to the electroclash 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
Eric Copeland,
Harpers Bizarre,
L. Decosne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eddi Front,
Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yellowson,
Adolescents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Soul II Soul,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grauzone,
the Normal,
Kas Product,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lower 48,
The Leaves,
Todd Terry,
Pantytec,
Clear Light,
Black Pus,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Near,
The Angels of Light,
Metal Thangz,
The Techniques,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arcadia,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.