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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Donald Fagen 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Slave,
Faust,
Dave Gahan,
One Last Wish,
Hashim,
Bob Dylan,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ponytail,
Alison Limerick,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Urselle,
The Offenders,
Gang Green,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Dark Day,
The Dead C,
Aswad,
Lalann,
Radio Birdman,
Q65,
The Mojo Men,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
The Slits,
Rosa Yemen,
Crispian St. Peters,
FM Einheit,
Nick Fraelich,
Aaron Thompson,
Marine Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
The Young Rascals,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.