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 United States and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Average White Band,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
Darondo,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Dorothy Ashby,
Young Marble Giants,
ABC,
Yaz,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gladiators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Porter Ricks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Leaves,
MDC,
Zero Boys,
Little Man,
EPMD,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
The Star Department,
Roxy Music,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers,
Guru Guru,
The Red Krayola,
Nico,
Reuben Wilson,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Kaleidoscope,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
Massinfluence,
Agitation Free,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.