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 Hungary and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Laurel Aitken to the rock 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Roxette,
Peter and Kerry,
Rekid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
the Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers,
Cheater Slicks,
The Searchers,
the Normal,
Jerry's Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Outsiders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
Piero Umiliani,
Lakeside,
Prince Buster,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Matthew Halsall,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
Nico,
The Cure,
Lou Reed,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
Sister Nancy,
Kurtis Blow,
Little Man,
Angry Samoans,
John Foxx,
Zero Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Popol Vuh,
Livin' Joy,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
The Gladiators,
Rites of Spring,
Masters at Work,
Oneida,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.