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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gang Green to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Wings,
Liliput,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Main Source,
Alton Ellis,
Thee Headcoats,
Marc Almond,
Zapp,
The Grass Roots,
Sonic Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Hasil Adkins,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
The Knickerbockers,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Whodini,
John Holt,
Pere Ubu,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
Pulsallama,
Eurythmics,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skriet,
Dark Day,
Laurel Aitken,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
Average White Band,
Gang Green,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June of 44,
The Mummies,
The Residents,
Tommy Roe,
Aloha Tigers,
Cymande,
Rekid,
Outsiders,
Brand Nubian,
Angry Samoans,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rosa Yemen,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Altered Images,
Franke,
The Wake,
Roger Hodgson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blancmange,
the Swans,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.