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 Maldives and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
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 oboe 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 Johnny Clarke to the crunk 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
The Moody Blues,
Procol Harum,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantytec,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Deakin,
Swell Maps,
Bob Dylan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Basic Channel,
The Happenings,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Lalann,
DJ Style,
Boz Scaggs,
48th St. Collective,
Sam Rivers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tears for Fears,
The Buckinghams,
The Flesh Eaters,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Smog,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
Ossler,
Nico,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Archie Shepp,
Toni Rubio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Ohio Players,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lyres,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.