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 Ghana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 The Remains to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
H. Thieme,
Toni Rubio,
Barrington Levy,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
Das Ding,
The Invisible,
Altered Images,
Eric Copeland,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Maurizio,
The Buckinghams,
Tubeway Army,
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Saints,
Joy Division,
Man Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Popol Vuh,
The Toasters,
The Cramps,
Massinfluence,
Sixth Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cure,
Bill Near,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flipper,
Roxy Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Style,
Crash Course in Science,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Clear Light,
Pantaleimon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dawn Penn,
Ludus,
Sun City Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Skaos,
The Human League,
Jeff Lynne,
the Slits,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.