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 Somalia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Donald Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Hoover,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Dave Clark Five,
Intrusion,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Eric Copeland,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
The Litter,
ABC,
The Skatalites,
Animal Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
E-Dancer,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quando Quango,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alison Limerick,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Inner City,
Thee Headcoats,
Amazonics,
Masters at Work,
Duran Duran,
Procol Harum,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
MDC,
Pantytec,
Prince Buster,
Deakin,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Womack,
Piero Umiliani,
Josef K,
The Doors,
The Black Dice,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.