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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alison Limerick to the rap 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Angels of Light,
The Moleskins,
the Slits,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
David McCallum,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Christie,
The Smoke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Index,
Loose Ends,
The Mummies,
Graham Central Station,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Fad Gadget,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Saints,
Dead Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Inner City,
Soulsonic Force,
Pere Ubu,
The Buckinghams,
Al Stewart,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
LL Cool J,
The Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
cv313,
The Barracudas,
The Vogues,
Sixth Finger,
Supertramp,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
The Martian,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Halsall,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.