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 Djibouti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Visage 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
Vladislav Delay,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agent Orange,
Circle Jerks,
the Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
Boredoms,
The Dead C,
The Five Americans,
Guru Guru,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
Pussy Galore,
Roxy Music,
Deadbeat,
Cymande,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eurythmics,
The Seeds,
Black Moon,
AZ,
Intrusion,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Halsall,
The Pretty Things,
Goldenarms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Michelle Simonal,
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
Oneida,
These Immortal Souls,
The American Breed,
Howard Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Y Pants,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Banda Bassotti,
X-101,
Kas Product,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.