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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 Rites of Spring to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Modern Lovers,
Toni Rubio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Procol Harum,
Altered Images,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
In Retrospect,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Image Ltd.,
L. Decosne,
Camouflage,
Symarip,
Visage,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Gastr Del Sol,
Urselle,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Althea and Donna,
Franke,
Bobby Womack,
Reagan Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Near,
Robert Görl,
Don Cherry,
Clear Light,
Basic Channel,
Michelle Simonal,
Dawn Penn,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
The Doors,
Subhumans,
Brothers Johnson,
the Sonics,
David Axelrod,
Whodini,
Alison Limerick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Moleskins,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Bowie,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Parrish,
Moby Grape,
Pere Ubu,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Almond,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.