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 Spain and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 The Remains to the crunk 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moleskins,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crime,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scion,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
Popol Vuh,
Joyce Sims,
Oneida,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Fear,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Wolf Eyes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
The Red Krayola,
Grey Daturas,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Piero Umiliani,
The Real Kids,
Dennis Brown,
John Foxx,
Henry Cow,
The Count Five,
Guru Guru,
Derrick Morgan,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.