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 Algeria and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Slave to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Alice Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Scientists,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Halsall,
Dennis Brown,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
June of 44,
Warren Ellis,
Make Up,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Suicide,
the Human League,
Kerri Chandler,
Fluxion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Magma,
Matthew Bourne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül II,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
New Order,
The Remains,
D'Angelo,
Skaos,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
Terry Callier,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Inner City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stiv Bators,
Siglo XX,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
The Vogues,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smoke,
Derrick May,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.