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 Zimbabwe and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Lou Reed 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 MC5 to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
Nils Olav,
ABBA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magazine,
Anakelly,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Erasure,
Ultravox,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Von Mondo,
Black Bananas,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
Malaria!,
Gichy Dan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Sandy B,
Skaos,
a-ha,
The Fugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
Massinfluence,
Audionom,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Prince Buster,
The Selecter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smiths,
Lou Christie,
Isaac Hayes,
Groovy Waters,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Slave,
Eli Mardock,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.