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 Kyrgyzstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Whodini,
The Gories,
Nik Kershaw,
Au Pairs,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
China Crisis,
Eden Ahbez,
ABBA,
Country Teasers,
Steve Hackett,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Adolescents,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Association,
EPMD,
Pylon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed,
Second Layer,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Grauzone,
Dead Boys,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joyce Sims,
Slick Rick,
The Electric Prunes,
Talk Talk,
Essential Logic,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Flash Fearless,
Khruangbin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
Underground Resistance,
Rotary Connection,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
Spandau Ballet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.