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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 T.S.O.L. to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a snare and an organ 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 linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Theoretical Girls,
Average White Band,
Ponytail,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gabor Szabo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
Visage,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
OOIOO,
Reagan Youth,
Flamin' Groovies,
Popol Vuh,
The Last Poets,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fall,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Goldenarms,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
Ossler,
Roxette,
Babytalk,
Smog,
Pulsallama,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Mills,
Suicide,
Flipper,
Harmonia,
Nico,
The Gladiators,
Clear Light,
Thee Headcoats,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eden Ahbez,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shuggie Otis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soft Cell,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.