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 Turkey and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Holger Czukay 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 Count Five to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Stetsasonic,
The Happenings,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tim Buckley,
Spoonie Gee,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thee Headcoats,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Christie,
Fluxion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q65,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
Terry Callier,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Neu!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Reuben Wilson,
Bluetip,
L. Decosne,
Agent Orange,
John Holt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rakim,
Cameo,
Easy Going,
F. McDonald,
Newcleus,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
The Move,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things,
Outsiders,
Negative Approach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.