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 Libya and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Slave,
Loose Ends,
Suburban Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
The Stooges,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ten City,
Rufus Thomas,
H. Thieme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fortunes,
Al Stewart,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
Interpol,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
The Cure,
John Foxx,
Gabor Szabo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Metal Thangz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Infiniti,
Pere Ubu,
The Beau Brummels,
Juan Atkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joey Negro,
Circle Jerks,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
The Vogues,
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
Von Mondo,
Goldenarms,
Negative Approach,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young,
EPMD,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.