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 Costa Rica and from London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Frankie Knuckles to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scratch Acid,
the Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
Boredoms,
Altered Images,
Wally Richardson,
X-Ray Spex,
Curtis Mayfield,
June Days,
Soul II Soul,
Yaz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Silicon Teens,
Janne Schatter,
The Smiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Ponytail,
The Saints,
Pierre Henry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sandy B,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fat Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Q65,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minnie Riperton,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Henry Cow,
The Skatalites,
The Selecter,
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
Cameo,
The Cramps,
These Immortal Souls,
Tres Demented,
Moby Grape,
Second Layer,
DNA,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.