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 Papua New Guinea 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes 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 Lungfish to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Half Japanese,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
The Gun Club,
The Skatalites,
The Seeds,
kango's stein massive,
Marine Girls,
Tomorrow,
The Cowsills,
Eric Dolphy,
Wire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter and Kerry,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Sheep,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brass Construction,
Gang of Four,
the Bar-Kays,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Au Pairs,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fuzztones,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
Ludus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Normal,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
Agitation Free,
Severed Heads,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Arab on Radar,
The Knickerbockers,
Visage,
Gang Gang Dance,
Youth Brigade,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.