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 Sweden and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Talk Talk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monks,
The Techniques,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Average White Band,
Desert Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Scientists,
Gang Green,
KRS-One,
Fugazi,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dorothy Ashby,
Whodini,
Loose Ends,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
X-101,
the Human League,
China Crisis,
Ultravox,
The Index,
The Gladiators,
Lucky Dragons,
Crash Course in Science,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Youth Brigade,
MDC,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yaz,
The Doors,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Tremeloes,
Pierre Henry,
PIL,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Television,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Ponytail,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.