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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Sällskapet to the funk 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Aswad,
Rufus Thomas,
Blancmange,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
The Motions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Nick Fraelich,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
The Black Dice,
the Human League,
Soul II Soul,
FM Einheit,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Womack,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lower 48,
Fad Gadget,
David McCallum,
The Evens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Wings,
Clear Light,
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker,
Nils Olav,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Yazoo,
The Fall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boredoms,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Joy Division,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
Alison Limerick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.