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 Afghanistan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Martian to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Blake Baxter,
Crime,
Dead Boys,
The Cramps,
Half Japanese,
Pole,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Circle Jerks,
The Remains,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Animal Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Laurel Aitken,
Outsiders,
These Immortal Souls,
Stiv Bators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deadbeat,
Underground Resistance,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
Ice-T,
David McCallum,
Vladislav Delay,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slackers,
Gong,
LL Cool J,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Interpol,
the Germs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drexciya,
Albert Ayler,
Moebius,
Shoche,
Slick Rick,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.