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 Liechtenstein and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Iggy Pop to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
The Selecter,
Ultra Naté,
The Motions,
Desert Stars,
Flipper,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marmalade,
Model 500,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heaven 17,
Inner City,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
The American Breed,
Danielle Patucci,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
LL Cool J,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Malaria!,
Y Pants,
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
Stereo Dub,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Altered Images,
Hasil Adkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Slick Rick,
Pylon,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Gichy Dan,
This Heat,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
John Lydon,
The Offenders,
Lakeside,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra,
Scion,
Basic Channel,
the Normal,
Prince Buster,
EPMD,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Gregory Isaacs,
T.S.O.L.,
Icehouse,
Cal Tjader,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.