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 Australia and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reuben Wilson,
Nas,
Judy Mowatt,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Marmalade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Procol Harum,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Index,
The Star Department,
Prince Buster,
Josef K,
Roxy Music,
Hasil Adkins,
MDC,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Buckinghams,
Arcadia,
X-Ray Spex,
Gong,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T. Rex,
Second Layer,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mark Hollis,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
Chris & Cosey,
Public Enemy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pylon,
China Crisis,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Massinfluence,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Sandy B,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
Magma,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.