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 South Africa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Mary Jane Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Copeland,
The Kinks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lucky Dragons,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Scratch Acid,
The Zeros,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
The Moleskins,
Eurythmics,
Qualms,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Clear Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads,
Bronski Beat,
Thee Headcoats,
Skaos,
Sugar Minott,
Deadbeat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Dave Gahan,
Aloha Tigers,
Can,
Babytalk,
Graham Central Station,
Mantronix,
Gichy Dan,
These Immortal Souls,
Albert Ayler,
Oblivians,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Blake Baxter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Country Teasers,
Glambeats Corp.,
U.S. Maple,
Deepchord,
The Durutti Column,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.