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 Honduras and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the funk 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Warsaw,
The Moleskins,
Rosa Yemen,
CMW,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantaleimon,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Country Teasers,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Inner City,
The Slackers,
Minutemen,
Al Stewart,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wire,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roger Hodgson,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Popol Vuh,
Radio Birdman,
Sarah Menescal,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Gang Starr,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
The Misunderstood,
Piero Umiliani,
Basic Channel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Blancmange,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Raincoats,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bush Tetras,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Music Machine,
Masters at Work,
Joe Finger,
The Index,
Alphaville,
Brick,
kango's stein massive,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.