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 Hungary and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 Rufus Thomas 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispian St. Peters,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
Theoretical Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Moon,
Lalann,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Peter & Gordon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
The Techniques,
Sun City Girls,
H. Thieme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Style,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Associates,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
New Age Steppers,
The Remains,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Copeland,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
Urselle,
Barbara Tucker,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.