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 Azerbaijan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
The Invisible,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang On A Can,
The Smoke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun City Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Connie Case,
Jerry's Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stereo Dub,
Basic Channel,
Grey Daturas,
The Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Near,
Mad Mike,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fall,
The New Christs,
Todd Terry,
Flipper,
Section 25,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pierre Henry,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Von Mondo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aural Exciters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
The Mummies,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skaos,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.