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 Kazakhstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Minor Threat,
Flash Fearless,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sonics,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Blossom Toes,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
ABBA,
Moebius,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Vainqueur,
AZ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Green,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Doors,
Black Pus,
Junior Murvin,
Funkadelic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiohead,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Tres Demented,
Icehouse,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Christie,
Visage,
the Association,
Josef K,
Soulsonic Force,
The Busters,
Niagra,
The Count Five,
Ten City,
ABC,
Guru Guru,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.