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 Bolivia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 The Selecter to the grime 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül II,
The Blackbyrds,
Brass Construction,
Isaac Hayes,
Monks,
Mandrill,
Bobby Sherman,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Finger,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pole,
John Holt,
In Retrospect,
Al Stewart,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Half Japanese,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Flipper,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Erykah Badu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oblivians,
Ken Boothe,
Franke,
Carl Craig,
Suburban Knight,
The Selecter,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bauhaus,
Nico,
The Barracudas,
The Happenings,
The Cowsills,
Scratch Acid,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Kayak,
Alphaville,
the Human League,
Anthony Braxton,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
Yellowson,
Roxy Music,
Cameo,
Junior Murvin,
The Count Five,
Mission of Burma,
Make Up,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brick,
New Order,
Mr. Review,
The Five Americans,
ABC,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.