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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DJ Sneak to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Robert Görl,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Trumans Water,
New York Dolls,
Morten Harket,
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Au Pairs,
The Saints,
Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dual Sessions,
The Gun Club,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
Desert Stars,
The Seeds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vladislav Delay,
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
The Searchers,
Albert Ayler,
Wire,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Roxette,
Babytalk,
The American Breed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
the Swans,
Lower 48,
Gang of Four,
The Standells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lindisfarne,
Schoolly D,
Hoover,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Misunderstood,
DJ Style,
Theoretical Girls,
Soft Cell,
Ice-T,
Essential Logic,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Visage,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rakim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.