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 Papua New Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
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 marimba 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 Public Enemy to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Heaven 17,
Wally Richardson,
Soul Sonic Force,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Massinfluence,
Fluxion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Toasters,
Al Stewart,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Grauzone,
In Retrospect,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
New Order,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Adolescents,
Subhumans,
Ronan,
Zapp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Schoolly D,
Lakeside,
Wasted Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultra Naté,
The Seeds,
Graham Central Station,
Michelle Simonal,
AZ,
Essential Logic,
Eli Mardock,
Cheater Slicks,
Camouflage,
Nas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
David McCallum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joy Division,
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Gabor Szabo,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.