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 Luxembourg and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Dead Boys,
Black Sheep,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Soul II Soul,
Bluetip,
Babytalk,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Howard Jones,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Knickerbockers,
New Age Steppers,
Pagans,
Stiv Bators,
The Cramps,
The Gladiators,
DNA,
Ice-T,
Franke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hashim,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Golliwogs,
The Blues Magoos,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echospace,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Litter,
Fugazi,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
Boredoms,
Max Romeo,
New Order,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
Minor Threat,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.