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 Norway and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Ludus,
Matthew Halsall,
Neu!,
Whodini,
X-101,
Pantaleimon,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
The Busters,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
the Germs,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
John Foxx,
Young Marble Giants,
Amon Düül,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monolake,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
Bill Near,
Warsaw,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Quantec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vainqueur,
ABC,
Sound Behaviour,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Intrusion,
the Slits,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fat Boys,
Hoover,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The United States of America,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
Funkadelic,
Yaz,
Isaac Hayes,
Hashim,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.