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 Niger and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Average White Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Lungfish,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Television,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Golliwogs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nils Olav,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dead C,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
David Axelrod,
Leonard Cohen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Victims,
Gabor Szabo,
China Crisis,
KRS-One,
Bauhaus,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Associates,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Steve Hackett,
The Flesh Eaters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Crime,
The Evens,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
Ituana,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tim Buckley,
The Remains,
Simply Red,
June Days,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.