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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Iggy Pop,
Procol Harum,
Adolescents,
Motorama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Lindisfarne,
Sam Rivers,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fuzztones,
Roger Hodgson,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
The Human League,
Roxette,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Basic Channel,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
The Fortunes,
The Remains,
The Modern Lovers,
The J.B.'s,
David Bowie,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deepchord,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Heaven 17,
Fela Kuti,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fluxion,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Wells,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U,
Sugar Minott,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Hood,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Model 500,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.