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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Derrick May to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Scan 7,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soft Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Divine Comedy,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Hot Snakes,
Guru Guru,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Unwound,
Skriet,
Echospace,
K-Klass,
Suicide,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
EPMD,
Sex Pistols,
Dual Sessions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dead C,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads,
Aloha Tigers,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
Wings,
Heaven 17,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fire Engines,
Colin Newman,
Ponytail,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
Slick Rick,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.