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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells to the dance 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
Sonic Youth,
David McCallum,
Laurel Aitken,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultravox,
The Knickerbockers,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül,
X-Ray Spex,
Lebanon Hanover,
Procol Harum,
Banda Bassotti,
The Offenders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unrelated Segments,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
Young Marble Giants,
Neu!,
Bad Manners,
Supertramp,
Rapeman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
Roxette,
Curtis Mayfield,
Freddie Wadling,
Rufus Thomas,
Sex Pistols,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minny Pops,
Main Source,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ituana,
Marc Almond,
The Skatalites,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Easy Going,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.