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 Ukraine and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moby Grape to the funk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Black Dice,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Alton Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
Half Japanese,
AZ,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
Television,
Babytalk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Remains,
The Leaves,
Sun City Girls,
Surgeon,
Malaria!,
Lou Christie,
Spandau Ballet,
Hardrive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alphaville,
The Dave Clark Five,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans,
Magma,
The Golliwogs,
The Fall,
Livin' Joy,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
The Stooges,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Anakelly,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Moby Grape,
Maleditus Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Harmonia,
Erasure,
Marc Almond,
the Sonics,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.