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 Bolivia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Bad Manners,
Spoonie Gee,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brand Nubian,
La Düsseldorf,
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure,
JFA,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Index,
Moebius,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arcadia,
Lucky Dragons,
Television,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül II,
Cecil Taylor,
Tres Demented,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kenny Larkin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
John Holt,
Porter Ricks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Saints,
The Slackers,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smoke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash,
Juan Atkins,
Byron Stingily,
The Blackbyrds,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pussy Galore,
The Moleskins,
New Age Steppers,
June Days,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiohead,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.