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 Spain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 X-102 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Zapp,
Main Source,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Eurythmics,
Niagra,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rotary Connection,
Theoretical Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Brass Construction,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
Parry Music,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Near,
Heaven 17,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fear,
The Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
E-Dancer,
Siglo XX,
Essential Logic,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minnie Riperton,
Moss Icon,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Second Layer,
Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
Newcleus,
Average White Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
Boogie Down Productions,
JFA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Trumans Water,
Connie Case,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kaleidoscope,
The New Christs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eden Ahbez,
Scott Walker,
The Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.