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 Botswana and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
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 Holger Czukay 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Delta 5,
Roger Hodgson,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Deadbeat,
Radio Birdman,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eden Ahbez,
Sonic Youth,
Main Source,
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
The Buckinghams,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon,
Josef K,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
Fluxion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Icehouse,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
EPMD,
Parry Music,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yaz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
The Real Kids,
Marmalade,
The Cowsills,
X-101,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mission of Burma,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Isaac Hayes,
H. Thieme,
Judy Mowatt,
Thompson Twins,
the Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
Steve Hackett,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.