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 Marshall Islands and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Derrick May to the rap 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
The Index,
China Crisis,
Scion,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
Lungfish,
Brick,
Idris Muhammad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monks,
Pole,
Silicon Teens,
Aural Exciters,
the Sonics,
Hardrive,
Bill Near,
Blake Baxter,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Anakelly,
Moss Icon,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Talk Talk,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter and Kerry,
Quando Quango,
Jerry's Kids,
Tears for Fears,
The Dave Clark Five,
Electric Prunes,
Amazonics,
The Real Kids,
Quantec,
Oneida,
Ronan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Steve Hackett,
Amon Düül,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
La Düsseldorf,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
Robert Hood,
Fluxion,
Metal Thangz,
Zapp,
The J.B.'s,
The Mojo Men,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.