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 Dominican Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moleskins to the crunk 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Visage,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Byrd,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funkadelic,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barry Ungar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Eating Sloth,
Archie Shepp,
Mo-Dettes,
Mark Hollis,
Massinfluence,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Smog,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ornette Coleman,
Donald Byrd,
Black Moon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rod Modell,
Ponytail,
Matthew Halsall,
Audionom,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Knickerbockers,
Marvin Gaye,
David McCallum,
Sun City Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry's Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Procol Harum,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Terry Callier,
These Immortal Souls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Judy Mowatt,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fat Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
Guru Guru,
Hasil Adkins,
The Kinks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.