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 Guyana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dave Gahan to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Lalann,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Star Department,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Second Layer,
Franke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Icehouse,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sonics,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Infiniti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Man Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Theoretical Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Colin Newman,
Deakin,
Alison Limerick,
Agent Orange,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
Bill Near,
Blake Baxter,
Warsaw,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
Popol Vuh,
Delon & Dalcan,
Darondo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
John Lydon,
U.S. Maple,
Japan,
Black Moon,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Circle Jerks,
MDC,
Brass Construction,
Flash Fearless,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deepchord,
Spandau Ballet,
Warren Ellis,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wasted Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
the Association,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.