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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Anthony Braxton to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Wake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Colin Newman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Camberwell Now,
Suburban Knight,
a-ha,
Young Marble Giants,
Slave,
Symarip,
Niagra,
Babytalk,
Bill Wells,
Sandy B,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
John Cale,
Icehouse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
June Days,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
Roxy Music,
K-Klass,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Maurizio,
World's Most,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.