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 Czech Republic and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Bootsy Collins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Evens,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
Althea and Donna,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Technova,
Charles Mingus,
Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kayak,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Rufus Thomas,
Hasil Adkins,
R.M.O.,
The United States of America,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Half Japanese,
FM Einheit,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pole,
Royal Trux,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yazoo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
The Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sandy B,
Cymande,
The Gap Band,
Graham Central Station,
John Holt,
Qualms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sound,
Slave,
D'Angelo,
The Grass Roots,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Germs,
Goldenarms,
X-Ray Spex,
Aloha Tigers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
The Fugs,
The Pop Group,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.