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 Samoa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 New York Dolls to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Names,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
John Foxx,
Shoche,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
The Smoke,
Basic Channel,
Gichy Dan,
Minor Threat,
Ohio Players,
Joe Finger,
Ice-T,
Iggy Pop,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One,
Gang Starr,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
The Neon Judgement,
Jawbox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
CMW,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Clarke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Cale,
OOIOO,
Scientists,
Nico,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Germs,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
The Remains,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.