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 Malawi and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Urselle to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drexciya,
The Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
Quando Quango,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Sam Rivers,
ABC,
Jandek,
Sun City Girls,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
The Pop Group,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television Personalities,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Birthday Party,
Wasted Youth,
Vainqueur,
Electric Prunes,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonic Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
CMW,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marine Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Roxette,
Make Up,
Visage,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
Ice-T,
Unrelated Segments,
Marmalade,
Kaleidoscope,
Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Althea and Donna,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joy Division,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
Procol Harum,
Theoretical Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
Scan 7,
Crooked Eye,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.