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 Algeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Marc Almond to the techno 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Hashim,
Roxy Music,
U.S. Maple,
MC5,
Adolescents,
Skriet,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Happenings,
Ituana,
Altered Images,
Rites of Spring,
Stetsasonic,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
The Black Dice,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Circle Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Laurel Aitken,
Slick Rick,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
Sister Nancy,
Barrington Levy,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Bad Manners,
KRS-One,
Easy Going,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
Theoretical Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
Icehouse,
Groovy Waters,
Basic Channel,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Womack,
Unwound,
Siglo XX,
Lou Christie,
Sound Behaviour,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.