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 Czech Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faraquet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Rotary Connection,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
John Holt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Index,
Blake Baxter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Mantronix,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yellowson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Terry Callier,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Machine,
Gang of Four,
Gang Gang Dance,
Magma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
La Düsseldorf,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Half Japanese,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siglo XX,
Alison Limerick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suburban Knight,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Angels of Light,
The Human League,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
The Beau Brummels,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Almond,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.