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 Panama and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar 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 Slick Rick to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry's Kids,
Wally Richardson,
Stiv Bators,
Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
Agent Orange,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
H. Thieme,
Silicon Teens,
Ken Boothe,
Leonard Cohen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
Kaleidoscope,
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
Theoretical Girls,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
Public Enemy,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
Eddi Front,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Nas,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Motorama,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Skriet,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soulsonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
Scion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Almond,
Goldenarms,
Malaria!,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.