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 Montenegro and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lou Christie to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Gong,
PIL,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flipper,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Saccharine Trust,
The Count Five,
Los Fastidios,
The Young Rascals,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Warsaw,
Heaven 17,
The Velvet Underground,
Max Romeo,
Gang of Four,
Boredoms,
Arthur Verocai,
Massinfluence,
Freddie Wadling,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cure,
Inner City,
Jerry's Kids,
Guru Guru,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
Mission of Burma,
Animal Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Laurel Aitken,
Boogie Down Productions,
This Heat,
The Wake,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quantec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
Pole,
Japan,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.