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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 The Detroit Cobras to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Accadde A,
Dark Day,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
Stiv Bators,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
ABBA,
The Blues Magoos,
Dennis Brown,
Grandmaster Flash,
Inner City,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Panda Bear,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Velvet Underground,
Faraquet,
DJ Sneak,
The Index,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians,
The Monks,
Quadrant,
Albert Ayler,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Laurel Aitken,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
The Searchers,
Joe Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The American Breed,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deakin,
Bad Manners,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.