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 Mozambique and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 David Axelrod to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Matthew Bourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Liliput,
Underground Resistance,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
Pere Ubu,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Ronan,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swell Maps,
Outsiders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Warsaw,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
New York Dolls,
The Last Poets,
Essential Logic,
Gang of Four,
Crash Course in Science,
CMW,
The Electric Prunes,
Main Source,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Max Romeo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
The Wake,
Fela Kuti,
Bronski Beat,
U.S. Maple,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxette,
a-ha,
The Dead C,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Delta 5,
Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
The Slits,
Vainqueur,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sixth Finger,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.