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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Michael McDonald 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 Black Moon to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Rakim,
John Foxx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joy Division,
Arthur Verocai,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
Skarface,
The Young Rascals,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Scion,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
The Fall,
Vladislav Delay,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
The Cowsills,
Cluster,
James White and The Blacks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tomorrow,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
The Blues Magoos,
Jerry's Kids,
T.S.O.L.,
Gabor Szabo,
Silicon Teens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-101,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Jandek,
Jacques Brel,
Grandmaster Flash,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dave Gahan,
Ituana,
Shuggie Otis,
Marmalade,
Joe Finger,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.