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 Mexico and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
Cymande,
Lee Hazlewood,
H. Thieme,
Yusef Lateef,
Simply Red,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul II Soul,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
Metal Thangz,
Bauhaus,
Ice-T,
Eve St. Jones,
Loose Ends,
Jacques Brel,
Pole,
The Cramps,
the Normal,
Guru Guru,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Lungfish,
Faraquet,
Gang Starr,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Outsiders,
Robert Hood,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABC,
MDC,
Con Funk Shun,
Newcleus,
Essential Logic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
K-Klass,
Bobby Byrd,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Deadbeat,
Cal Tjader,
Erasure,
Lyres,
The Doors,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Buzzcocks,
The Smiths,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
Altered Images,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.