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 Greece and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the grunge 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
John Coltrane,
Television,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harmonia,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
Kenny Larkin,
Agent Orange,
48th St. Collective,
Kas Product,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Talk Talk,
Jandek,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gun Club,
Intrusion,
Laurel Aitken,
Sight & Sound,
EPMD,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Young Marble Giants,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swans,
Malaria!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-Ray Spex,
The Misunderstood,
Mantronix,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Pus,
La Düsseldorf,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
Brick,
John Foxx,
Desert Stars,
Newcleus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Happenings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
the Swans,
June Days,
Hoover,
Quadrant,
Marvin Gaye,
Eli Mardock,
10cc,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.