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 Suriname and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Mandrill,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
Whodini,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Teasers,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Cymande,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Connie Case,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Pole,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Thompson Twins,
Simply Red,
The Sonics,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fuzztones,
The Motions,
Derrick May,
Alphaville,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agitation Free,
The Invisible,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABBA,
La Düsseldorf,
Lakeside,
Y Pants,
Khruangbin,
The Toasters,
Mars,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.