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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 The Dead C to the disco 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
The Happenings,
The American Breed,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Visage,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
Albert Ayler,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Surgeon,
Sandy B,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Index,
Darondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
Unrelated Segments,
Spoonie Gee,
The Associates,
Janne Schatter,
The Doors,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Funkadelic,
cv313,
Eli Mardock,
Nico,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun Ra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Normal,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun City Girls,
Interpol,
Tom Boy,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Babytalk,
The Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cramps,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter,
Deepchord,
Sister Nancy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Chris & Cosey,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.