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 Cambodia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Mission of Burma to the disco 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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
Marine Girls,
Alphaville,
David Bowie,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
Toni Rubio,
Scott Walker,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Au Pairs,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Association,
Josef K,
Fela Kuti,
FM Einheit,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Kurtis Blow,
Adolescents,
Symarip,
The Fortunes,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Monks,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hasil Adkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Iggy Pop,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Germs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
China Crisis,
Bobby Womack,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Remains,
The Victims,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.