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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cure to the grunge 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Pharoah Sanders,
Surgeon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Silicon Teens,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Janne Schatter,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
JFA,
Albert Ayler,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
The Motions,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Knickerbockers,
The Blackbyrds,
Iggy Pop,
Lalann,
Dual Sessions,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
Gang Green,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mars,
Susan Cadogan,
Camberwell Now,
Sight & Sound,
Black Bananas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minor Threat,
DNA,
Bootsy Collins,
MC5,
The Monochrome Set,
FM Einheit,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cure,
Joe Smooth,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pole,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.