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 Nicaragua and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Symarip to the techno 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
T.S.O.L.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monochrome Set,
Zero Boys,
Lou Christie,
The Grass Roots,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faust,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grauzone,
Pantaleimon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Selecter,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
The Durutti Column,
The Saints,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mummies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Kaleidoscope,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drexciya,
Rites of Spring,
Ludus,
Peter & Gordon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
Delta 5,
the Bar-Kays,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
Tommy Roe,
Minutemen,
Cluster,
The Red Krayola,
The Toasters,
the Swans,
Glenn Branca,
The Smoke,
Suicide,
Thee Headcoats,
Supertramp,
Boz Scaggs,
Inner City,
New Age Steppers,
Bad Manners,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Basic Channel,
Model 500,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.