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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Zeros,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deadbeat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Residents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
Y Pants,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Womack,
The Smoke,
Donald Byrd,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Magma,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
B.T. Express,
Qualms,
The Cramps,
The Cure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Human League,
the Slits,
Depeche Mode,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Josef K,
Scrapy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Birthday Party,
Kas Product,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
Reuben Wilson,
Letta Mbulu,
Technova,
Peter and Kerry,
Theoretical Girls,
Morten Harket,
One Last Wish,
Bad Manners,
Eric Dolphy,
Khruangbin,
Lower 48,
Minor Threat,
Mandrill,
The Real Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Animal Collective,
The Gories,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.