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 Azerbaijan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
The Remains,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nick Fraelich,
Anakelly,
Chrome,
Excepter,
The Invisible,
Minor Threat,
Infiniti,
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
Darondo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang of Four,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
Youth Brigade,
The Fugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brand Nubian,
Marvin Gaye,
Suicide,
Smog,
Japan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Henry Cow,
The Golliwogs,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Tremeloes,
Rotary Connection,
Underground Resistance,
Q65,
Kas Product,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Section 25,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
The Mummies,
Gichy Dan,
Young Marble Giants,
The Smiths,
X-101,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.