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 Kiribati and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Gang Dance to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Funkadelic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Style,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
June of 44,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronnie Foster,
Terry Callier,
Kayak,
Cluster,
Lucky Dragons,
F. McDonald,
Quadrant,
Sarah Menescal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
New Order,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Starr,
Schoolly D,
Siglo XX,
Circle Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Con Funk Shun,
Q65,
the Germs,
Hashim,
Babytalk,
The Blues Magoos,
Big Daddy Kane,
Can,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
Joy Division,
The Modern Lovers,
Minor Threat,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mo-Dettes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Wells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
The Trojans,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Sparks,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.