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 Iran and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Parry Music to the punk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Gabor Szabo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fad Gadget,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Holt,
Marcia Griffiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kurtis Blow,
Cybotron,
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quando Quango,
Mandrill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scientists,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultravox,
DNA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amon Düül,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
a-ha,
The Doors,
The Black Dice,
Camberwell Now,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Trojans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pierre Henry,
Masters at Work,
Glenn Branca,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
Royal Trux,
Radiohead,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Patti Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Niagra,
Spandau Ballet,
Prince Buster,
Au Pairs,
A Certain Ratio,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.