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 Liechtenstein and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the crunk 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
Altered Images,
Black Bananas,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun City Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Don Cherry,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Buzzcocks,
Lakeside,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Hardrive,
Lalann,
The Cramps,
Deadbeat,
Trumans Water,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
The Birthday Party,
Whodini,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
The Searchers,
ABC,
Dual Sessions,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cowsills,
K-Klass,
Junior Murvin,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
X-101,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gong,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.