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 Pakistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Model 500,
Minny Pops,
John Foxx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül II,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magma,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
Liliput,
Nico,
Matthew Halsall,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fall,
The Stooges,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slits,
Pulsallama,
Warren Ellis,
MC5,
Ronnie Foster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Iggy Pop,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Das Ding,
The New Christs,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy Collins,
E-Dancer,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
Goldenarms,
Sparks,
Whodini,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
World's Most,
David Bowie,
La Düsseldorf,
Al Stewart,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Circle Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Juan Atkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Negative Approach,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Laurel Aitken,
Maurizio,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.