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 St Lucia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 B.T. Express to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Associates,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funky Four + One,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Axelrod,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Ken Boothe,
Aural Exciters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
Eddi Front,
Surgeon,
Byron Stingily,
F. McDonald,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Livin' Joy,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
The Searchers,
Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lyres,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
Ituana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Smooth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Boredoms,
The Music Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Lynne,
Au Pairs,
The Last Poets,
Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
EPMD,
Minor Threat,
China Crisis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agitation Free,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Janne Schatter,
The Vogues,
The Saints,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Starr,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.