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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang of Four to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronnie Foster,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
K-Klass,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Inner City,
The Last Poets,
Mission of Burma,
Basic Channel,
DNA,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Albert Ayler,
The Sonics,
Ice-T,
The Gladiators,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
The Pretty Things,
Warren Ellis,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers,
Erasure,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Minnie Riperton,
Little Man,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas,
Jacques Brel,
Livin' Joy,
Davy DMX,
Camouflage,
Fear,
Amon Düül,
LL Cool J,
Sarah Menescal,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Count Five,
Ponytail,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
Mars,
Underground Resistance,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.