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 Uzbekistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tomorrow,
Pole,
Slave,
Henry Cow,
Ossler,
Bootsy Collins,
48th St. Collective,
Aswad,
PIL,
Moby Grape,
Eden Ahbez,
Magazine,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
The Velvet Underground,
Alice Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed,
Traffic Nightmare,
Theoretical Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ronan,
Altered Images,
The Litter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Swans,
Darondo,
The Gladiators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tommy Roe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wire,
Leonard Cohen,
Echospace,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.