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 Latvia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 The Doors to the disco 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Au Pairs,
Rod Modell,
Black Pus,
Glenn Branca,
Marine Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Arab on Radar,
Scott Walker,
The New Christs,
Symarip,
Black Sheep,
Smog,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
Bauhaus,
The Motions,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Velvet Underground,
Connie Case,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
Funky Four + One,
The Doors,
The Cowsills,
LL Cool J,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
the Slits,
Al Stewart,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
The Last Poets,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
The Seeds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
Can,
Index,
Simply Red,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mad Mike,
Eve St. Jones,
Livin' Joy,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Matthew Halsall,
DNA,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Royal Trux,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.