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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Neu! to the grime 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
The Doors,
The Knickerbockers,
John Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
Quadrant,
Delta 5,
Thompson Twins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Nils Olav,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Audionom,
Flash Fearless,
Bronski Beat,
Chrome,
PIL,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
The Trojans,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Arab on Radar,
The American Breed,
Archie Shepp,
Symarip,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott Heron,
Second Layer,
Make Up,
The Smiths,
Yaz,
Darondo,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
OOIOO,
One Last Wish,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Delon & Dalcan,
Niagra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
Lower 48,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
The Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.