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 Vietnam and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
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 linndrum 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 Deepchord to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Joe Finger,
a-ha,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
The Walker Brothers,
The Index,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Pantytec,
Amazonics,
Junior Murvin,
The Cramps,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronan,
Sällskapet,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Khruangbin,
JFA,
Deakin,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moebius,
Lakeside,
Underground Resistance,
Gabor Szabo,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
Mantronix,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
Royal Trux,
Skarface,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone,
MC5,
Negative Approach,
Marmalade,
Panda Bear,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Organ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Kinks,
Sonic Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.