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 Tunisia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 guitar 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 Pulsallama to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Television Personalities,
The Last Poets,
Country Teasers,
Yaz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
The Neon Judgement,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gap Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fall,
DNA,
Matthew Bourne,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
Simply Red,
Harpers Bizarre,
The New Christs,
The Pop Group,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
Surgeon,
The Techniques,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Adolescents,
the Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Style,
The Monks,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hot Snakes,
Monks,
Deakin,
Skarface,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Bananas,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.