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 Congo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Eli Mardock to the funk 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Talk Talk,
Severed Heads,
Eric Copeland,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Swans,
Ossler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ten City,
Joe Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Laurel Aitken,
Ohio Players,
Morten Harket,
The Dead C,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Rundgren,
Lyres,
Skarface,
Accadde A,
Aswad,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash,
Junior Murvin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
H. Thieme,
Fela Kuti,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Green,
The Alarm Clocks,
Loose Ends,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Big Daddy Kane,
Los Fastidios,
Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.