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 Ireland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Stooges,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fluxion,
Oneida,
June Days,
Gang of Four,
Tubeway Army,
Glenn Branca,
Ultravox,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Zeros,
Hashim,
Rod Modell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arab on Radar,
Faraquet,
Slave,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
Arcadia,
Swell Maps,
Joe Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DNA,
Hasil Adkins,
The Wake,
Maurizio,
Harmonia,
China Crisis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ponytail,
Reuben Wilson,
kango's stein massive,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
David Axelrod,
Bauhaus,
Letta Mbulu,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
Black Moon,
Essential Logic,
Marmalade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Amazonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Eden Ahbez,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
Lalann,
Jeff Mills,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.