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 Swaziland and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
Vainqueur,
World's Most,
Eden Ahbez,
The Saints,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Mo-Dettes,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
Brass Construction,
The Names,
The Martian,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Talk Talk,
Stereo Dub,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
The Black Dice,
Little Man,
Subhumans,
The Blackbyrds,
Aswad,
Technova,
Drexciya,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ituana,
Reuben Wilson,
K-Klass,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Lalann,
The Busters,
Aural Exciters,
Max Romeo,
Surgeon,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Simply Red,
The Grass Roots,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonic Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Jandek,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Traffic Nightmare,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
Skarface,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
The Sonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.