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 Nauru 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mad Mike to the grime 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Pylon,
Metal Thangz,
Spoonie Gee,
Excepter,
Quando Quango,
Index,
Juan Atkins,
Brand Nubian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Carl Craig,
Main Source,
The Residents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slick Rick,
The Move,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Cybotron,
Lyres,
Aloha Tigers,
Grey Daturas,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Görl,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Minor Threat,
The Fall,
New York Dolls,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord,
R.M.O.,
Eddi Front,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Nils Olav,
Clear Light,
Guru Guru,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
Quantec,
Nik Kershaw,
Soulsonic Force,
Make Up,
Mission of Burma,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.