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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sound to the disco 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Frankie Knuckles,
Henry Cow,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
The Moody Blues,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Names,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Holt,
Yusef Lateef,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Youth Brigade,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Kayak,
LL Cool J,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
Babytalk,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Lynne,
KRS-One,
The Birthday Party,
Black Sheep,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiohead,
Chris Corsano,
Sparks,
Moebius,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Sherman,
Bush Tetras,
Bad Manners,
H. Thieme,
the Association,
Bobby Byrd,
Excepter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.