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 Benin and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
EPMD,
Prince Buster,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
Gang Green,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fatback Band,
The Trojans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Q65,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monochrome Set,
Dawn Penn,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Clarke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Motorama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
D'Angelo,
Barbara Tucker,
Janne Schatter,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ossler,
Pierre Henry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Lebanon Hanover,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
Kas Product,
Y Pants,
Maurizio,
The Techniques,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.