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 Azerbaijan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
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 guitar 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 David Axelrod to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
Robert Wyatt,
Altered Images,
Bill Near,
June Days,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultravox,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
Ronan,
Radiohead,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Neon Judgement,
The Saints,
Eddi Front,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
DNA,
Minor Threat,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rekid,
Brand Nubian,
The Fuzztones,
Jacques Brel,
cv313,
U.S. Maple,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
Althea and Donna,
Davy DMX,
Roxette,
The Victims,
Colin Newman,
Gang Green,
Stiv Bators,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.