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 Morocco and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 The Divine Comedy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Marc Almond,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Whodini,
Babytalk,
Cluster,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reuben Wilson,
Flash Fearless,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arthur Verocai,
In Retrospect,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oblivians,
Oneida,
Quantec,
Ice-T,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
Lou Christie,
Masters at Work,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bush Tetras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Birthday Party,
Fela Kuti,
Ludus,
Pylon,
Qualms,
Michelle Simonal,
Thompson Twins,
Wire,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Grass Roots,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Basic Channel,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Silicon Teens,
Mo-Dettes,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.