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 Mongolia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Arab on Radar to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yazoo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maurizio,
Sun City Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Smog,
Gang Green,
Sight & Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Scion,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Age Steppers,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Graham Central Station,
Kurtis Blow,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
John Holt,
The Happenings,
Roxette,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Model 500,
Sparks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
Dave Gahan,
Black Pus,
Nico,
Ornette Coleman,
Babytalk,
Faraquet,
The Motions,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
The United States of America,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Qualms,
Freddie Wadling,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.