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 Slovenia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Golliwogs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skaos,
MC5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
Lakeside,
Aaron Thompson,
The Motions,
Hardrive,
The Fuzztones,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camberwell Now,
Stiv Bators,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Iggy Pop,
Wally Richardson,
Tubeway Army,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
CMW,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
Soulsonic Force,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
Ten City,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
Shuggie Otis,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Bill Wells,
AZ,
Subhumans,
Royal Trux,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fall,
Circle Jerks,
Deepchord,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
The Moody Blues,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiohead,
Skriet,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.