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 Mauritania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Das Ding to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Gichy Dan,
Jeff Lynne,
Gong,
Hashim,
Deepchord,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy,
Toni Rubio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Ronnie Foster,
Banda Bassotti,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cluster,
Camberwell Now,
T.S.O.L.,
Underground Resistance,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sugar Minott,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-102,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Adolescents,
Graham Central Station,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The New Christs,
Quando Quango,
Agent Orange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
Laurel Aitken,
Byron Stingily,
Ohio Players,
Scan 7,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Monks,
Vainqueur,
The Count Five,
the Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Albert Ayler,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Terry Callier,
Cymande,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Panda Bear,
Second Layer,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.