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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Intrusion to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
The Gladiators,
Funkadelic,
Sight & Sound,
The Standells,
Interpol,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Sneak,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman,
Max Romeo,
The Count Five,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mark Hollis,
Kurtis Blow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sällskapet,
The Slits,
Loose Ends,
Ken Boothe,
10cc,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
The Blackbyrds,
Carl Craig,
Jawbox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Flag,
Minor Threat,
Absolute Body Control,
The Grass Roots,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Outsiders,
Alison Limerick,
Wire,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
Severed Heads,
Pulsallama,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Au Pairs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.