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 France and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Popol Vuh to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pere Ubu,
Mandrill,
Das Ding,
Bang On A Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thee Headcoats,
Terry Callier,
Susan Cadogan,
The Wake,
The Pop Group,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Au Pairs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
Dead Boys,
Davy DMX,
Todd Rundgren,
The Blues Magoos,
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
Moby Grape,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
UT,
Suicide,
Big Daddy Kane,
Quadrant,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
In Retrospect,
The Evens,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Peter & Gordon,
Lower 48,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Names,
The Misunderstood,
Pulsallama,
Youth Brigade,
Pole,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.