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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 The Victims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Procol Harum,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
China Crisis,
Tres Demented,
Supertramp,
Fugazi,
Desert Stars,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
Amon Düül II,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
Harry Pussy,
Nas,
La Düsseldorf,
John Lydon,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
L. Decosne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
Dark Day,
Kenny Larkin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doors,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!,
Wasted Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Darondo,
Parry Music,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Archie Shepp,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.