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 Cape Verde and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 the Normal to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eli Mardock,
Marmalade,
Bobby Womack,
Sam Rivers,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Sandy B,
Sugar Minott,
Gang of Four,
Wolf Eyes,
Altered Images,
Malaria!,
Little Man,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Misunderstood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bush Tetras,
Pulsallama,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Television Personalities,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy Collins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Association,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
Flipper,
Patti Smith,
Skaos,
Monolake,
Urselle,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Bang On A Can,
The Index,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Kayak,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jawbox,
Howard Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Delta 5,
the Bar-Kays,
Q65,
Nils Olav,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.