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 Equatorial Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nation of Ulysses to the punk 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
Yellowson,
Symarip,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
The Leaves,
the Human League,
Eden Ahbez,
Oneida,
Leonard Cohen,
Radio Birdman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Das Ding,
Mars,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Terry Callier,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
LL Cool J,
The Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
Niagra,
kango's stein massive,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Rakim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Patti Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Organ,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Remains,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cure,
X-Ray Spex,
Magazine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric Dolphy,
Scion,
The Zeros,
The Stooges,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.