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 Libya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Subhumans,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Bootsy Collins,
Parry Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Green,
Gabor Szabo,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Popol Vuh,
Lungfish,
The Five Americans,
Mars,
Arcadia,
Sparks,
D'Angelo,
Massinfluence,
The Monochrome Set,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Cluster,
The Happenings,
Jacob Miller,
Visage,
Hardrive,
The Move,
Ludus,
Ossler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brass Construction,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Soulsonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
In Retrospect,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
Stereo Dub,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Görl,
Thee Headcoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.