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 Korea South and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Tropical Tobacco to the disco 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cowsills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Bananas,
The Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
Radiohead,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
A Certain Ratio,
Deepchord,
Easy Going,
Archie Shepp,
Wolf Eyes,
Pole,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unwound,
PIL,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Monochrome Set,
Audionom,
Con Funk Shun,
The Five Americans,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
Graham Central Station,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rotary Connection,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Motorama,
Bill Near,
the Germs,
Bootsy Collins,
Mad Mike,
Tubeway Army,
World's Most,
Swell Maps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Names,
Vladislav Delay,
Donny Hathaway,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
The Pretty Things,
Michelle Simonal,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Desert Stars,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.