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 Korea South and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Qualms to the disco 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple,
MC5,
Echospace,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roger Hodgson,
Boz Scaggs,
Radio Birdman,
Dual Sessions,
Skaos,
Grauzone,
Slave,
Pole,
Khruangbin,
This Heat,
Thompson Twins,
Lungfish,
Hoover,
Gabor Szabo,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
The Doors,
Negative Approach,
The Monochrome Set,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Almond,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Pere Ubu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Sixth Finger,
Maurizio,
Funkadelic,
Faust,
Ten City,
Alice Coltrane,
Rod Modell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
Pylon,
Lalann,
New York Dolls,
Fatback Band,
Mad Mike,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
ABC,
The Mojo Men,
The Gap Band,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.