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 Laos and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Loose Ends to the electroclash 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Section 25,
Eddi Front,
Mantronix,
Lyres,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Music Machine,
The Five Americans,
The Golliwogs,
Black Sheep,
Deadbeat,
The Buckinghams,
The Slits,
Drexciya,
The Searchers,
Suicide,
Jawbox,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rod Modell,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barbara Tucker,
The Last Poets,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Minnie Riperton,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Order,
Fear,
The Residents,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The American Breed,
Roxette,
Faust,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pretty Things,
Nils Olav,
The Offenders,
Angry Samoans,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ken Boothe,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.