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 Swaziland and from Cairo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 The Stooges to the dance 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Rundgren,
B.T. Express,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
Unrelated Segments,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tomorrow,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Audionom,
Tubeway Army,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
The Searchers,
Boz Scaggs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
Tommy Roe,
Darondo,
KRS-One,
Crash Course in Science,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Moody Blues,
cv313,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moebius,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erasure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
In Retrospect,
Wally Richardson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
Sällskapet,
Funkadelic,
Anakelly,
Public Enemy,
The Tremeloes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kas Product,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.