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 Macedonia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Eric Copeland to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Pere Ubu,
Ultra Naté,
Banda Bassotti,
Sparks,
Marine Girls,
Model 500,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
Ten City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Saints,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crooked Eye,
Davy DMX,
Au Pairs,
The Modern Lovers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barbara Tucker,
Soulsonic Force,
Technova,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Brick,
Lower 48,
The Standells,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
Funky Four + One,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cramps,
Colin Newman,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Scion,
The Selecter,
The Moody Blues,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.