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 Syria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacques Brel,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ponytail,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Halsall,
Ornette Coleman,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television Personalities,
The Associates,
the Human League,
The Wake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Niagra,
Bobby Byrd,
The Zeros,
the Association,
Von Mondo,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
Das Ding,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Supertramp,
Nils Olav,
Q65,
Vainqueur,
Eden Ahbez,
The Vogues,
The Young Rascals,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flipper,
Subhumans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ken Boothe,
The Stooges,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.