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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Whodini to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Young Marble Giants,
Sparks,
Don Cherry,
48th St. Collective,
Davy DMX,
Qualms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Television,
Sixth Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Tears for Fears,
Trumans Water,
Rod Modell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sight & Sound,
ABBA,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Subhumans,
Howard Jones,
Patti Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
Los Fastidios,
Grauzone,
Rufus Thomas,
New Order,
Sällskapet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nils Olav,
Minutemen,
Gerry Rafferty,
David McCallum,
Franke,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
Freddie Wadling,
Kas Product,
Arcadia,
Eddi Front,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oneida,
Reagan Youth,
The Trojans,
Mandrill,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan,
Max Romeo,
Yellowson,
Khruangbin,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.