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 Ukraine and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gun Club to the jazz 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
Technova,
Skaos,
Moby Grape,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Rotary Connection,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lindisfarne,
The Selecter,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
Crispy Ambulance,
Graham Central Station,
Au Pairs,
Scientists,
Girls At Our Best!,
Henry Cow,
Ohio Players,
Public Image Ltd.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Leonard Cohen,
Organ,
Dead Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
MDC,
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Accadde A,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Bad Manners,
Silicon Teens,
Public Enemy,
Motorama,
Kayak,
The Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warsaw,
Q65,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.