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 Uruguay and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Iggy Pop to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Blake Baxter,
Neu!,
Joensuu 1685,
Scott Walker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
Sällskapet,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
Amazonics,
F. McDonald,
Hot Snakes,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
EPMD,
DNA,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
AZ,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
Funky Four + One,
The Buckinghams,
Massinfluence,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cluster,
Derrick May,
The Stooges,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Count Five,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Infiniti,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
MC5,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
The Toasters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Essential Logic,
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
Al Stewart,
Colin Newman,
Skarface,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Black Dice,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Grass Roots,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.