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 Andorra and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the disco 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Masters at Work,
The Gap Band,
a-ha,
The Smoke,
Josef K,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Los Fastidios,
The Blackbyrds,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sandy B,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Mo-Dettes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Buckinghams,
Intrusion,
Shoche,
Ludus,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
PIL,
FM Einheit,
Fad Gadget,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Surgeon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Altered Images,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tom Boy,
Jawbox,
Rakim,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Faust,
Arthur Verocai,
Alice Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David Axelrod,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.