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 Argentina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 The Fugs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
the Sonics,
Newcleus,
Little Man,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
the Normal,
Faraquet,
Bill Wells,
the Germs,
The Cowsills,
Tubeway Army,
Skriet,
Robert Hood,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Jandek,
Cheater Slicks,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
Young Marble Giants,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
H. Thieme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
Loose Ends,
Juan Atkins,
Pere Ubu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Lynne,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
The Flesh Eaters,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Barracudas,
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
Deadbeat,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.