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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Vainqueur,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Inner City,
Outsiders,
Talk Talk,
Clear Light,
Reuben Wilson,
The Saints,
MDC,
OOIOO,
The Barracudas,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Urselle,
Slave,
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
The Raincoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pere Ubu,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Lightning Bolt,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Arcadia,
Q65,
Mad Mike,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gun Club,
Agitation Free,
Visage,
Tim Buckley,
In Retrospect,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Desert Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Real Kids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stiv Bators,
Khruangbin,
Zero Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Quadrant,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Iggy Pop,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.