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 Senegal and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ohio Players to the dance 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
The Birthday Party,
Scrapy,
Bill Wells,
CMW,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fear,
Liliput,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
The Mojo Men,
The Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
Clear Light,
Excepter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
AZ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
This Heat,
The Vogues,
The Fuzztones,
Freddie Wadling,
The Offenders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fall,
Sällskapet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
The Selecter,
Lightning Bolt,
ABBA,
Fatback Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
Hot Snakes,
Absolute Body Control,
Scion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Seeds,
48th St. Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Remains,
The Slits,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.