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 Antigua and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 ABC to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
The Remains,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
The Victims,
The Names,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Japan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Byron Stingily,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Offenders,
Kayak,
Alton Ellis,
The Golliwogs,
Darondo,
Laurel Aitken,
Piero Umiliani,
Clear Light,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
The Moleskins,
The Real Kids,
Surgeon,
The Neon Judgement,
A Certain Ratio,
Goldenarms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rufus Thomas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
The Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
Jacob Miller,
Peter and Kerry,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
The Trojans,
The United States of America,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.