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 Venezuela and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Freddie Wadling to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure 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?
Magazine,
Dead Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boredoms,
Con Funk Shun,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quantec,
Letta Mbulu,
Slick Rick,
cv313,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
The Human League,
Basic Channel,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
The Real Kids,
Howard Jones,
Deepchord,
Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
Bluetip,
Eve St. Jones,
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
The Raincoats,
The Monochrome Set,
The Music Machine,
Flash Fearless,
The Gories,
Wasted Youth,
Jawbox,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
KRS-One,
Leonard Cohen,
Brand Nubian,
Minny Pops,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Remains,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare,
Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Chrome,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faraquet,
Radio Birdman,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.