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 Italy and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the dance 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Chris Corsano,
Pagans,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
Patti Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Average White Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-101,
New Order,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Japan,
DJ Sneak,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Human League,
Howard Jones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
Chrome,
DNA,
the Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
Main Source,
Sun Ra,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
the Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Livin' Joy,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terrestrial Tones,
These Immortal Souls,
The Modern Lovers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tim Buckley,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.