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 Singapore and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scrapy to the grunge 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus 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 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Colin Newman,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Goldenarms,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Grey Daturas,
Interpol,
Rakim,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ponytail,
Sex Pistols,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wolf Eyes,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
The Barracudas,
Alphaville,
Toni Rubio,
Von Mondo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt,
Babytalk,
Monolake,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Reuben Wilson,
Dawn Penn,
Khruangbin,
Reagan Youth,
F. McDonald,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pere Ubu,
UT,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Carl Craig,
Technova,
Liliput,
Quadrant,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
Cybotron,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.