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 Canada and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 Fuzztones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Neu!,
Minny Pops,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
EPMD,
The Divine Comedy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
The Stooges,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Skarface,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fela Kuti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Bourne,
Severed Heads,
Sonic Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
The Walker Brothers,
Connie Case,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABC,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.