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 Cambodia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
The Cowsills,
the Sonics,
Basic Channel,
Rotary Connection,
Marvin Gaye,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
China Crisis,
Colin Newman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hardrive,
Bush Tetras,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
Motorama,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scrapy,
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
EPMD,
Saccharine Trust,
Sight & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Clarke,
Soft Machine,
Terry Callier,
Blossom Toes,
Anakelly,
OOIOO,
Deadbeat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Zero Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
Soulsonic Force,
ABC,
Cheater Slicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aswad,
The Five Americans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.