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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ossler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quando Quango,
Sugar Minott,
The Move,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hoover,
Section 25,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Juan Atkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Alton Ellis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
48th St. Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hasil Adkins,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur,
Amon Düül II,
The Toasters,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Desert Stars,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
Flamin' Groovies,
Buzzcocks,
The Dirtbombs,
Metal Thangz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Laurel Aitken,
Skaos,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stiv Bators,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
The Walker Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cybotron,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
EPMD,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.