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 Spain and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
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 marimba 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 Moss Icon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT 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?
Brand Nubian,
The Move,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Echospace,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gories,
The Last Poets,
Cal Tjader,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erasure,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
The J.B.'s,
Reagan Youth,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
Lakeside,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
Robert Hood,
Subhumans,
Arcadia,
The Moody Blues,
EPMD,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
Bob Dylan,
KRS-One,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
Buzzcocks,
Ultravox,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Green,
Popol Vuh,
Massinfluence,
The Divine Comedy,
Amon Düül,
Little Man,
Kool Moe Dee,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.