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 Iraq and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 Hot Snakes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Clear Light,
Iggy Pop,
Drexciya,
Hasil Adkins,
Rekid,
The Fuzztones,
The Barracudas,
B.T. Express,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Bluetip,
Yellowson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
The Tremeloes,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deadbeat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Golliwogs,
Groovy Waters,
Laurel Aitken,
David Bowie,
The Five Americans,
Niagra,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gladiators,
Youth Brigade,
Rod Modell,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick May,
June of 44,
Main Source,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
Dawn Penn,
David McCallum,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neil Young,
The Moleskins,
The Raincoats,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Dolphy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.