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 Antigua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
June Days,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
The Fugs,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Von Mondo,
Max Romeo,
Brick,
the Sonics,
Bill Wells,
David Bowie,
Big Daddy Kane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Toasters,
John Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
Section 25,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Enemy,
The Gun Club,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ponytail,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
CMW,
Nils Olav,
Basic Channel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marine Girls,
AZ,
Skriet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Osbourne,
FM Einheit,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Skaos,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
The Red Krayola,
The Standells,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
Shoche,
Crime,
The Index,
The Vogues,
Outsiders,
Model 500,
Bill Near,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Görl,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.