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 Serbia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 K-Klass to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Hot Snakes,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
Motorama,
The Names,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Siglo XX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Stooges,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Masters at Work,
Dennis Brown,
Roxette,
Grey Daturas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bad Manners,
Theoretical Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang of Four,
The Red Krayola,
Lebanon Hanover,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pretty Things,
The Blackbyrds,
the Bar-Kays,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
Second Layer,
Lalann,
Cymande,
Archie Shepp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Bill Wells,
The Neon Judgement,
The Grass Roots,
The Move,
Steve Hackett,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Khruangbin,
Reagan Youth,
Lungfish,
Altered Images,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.