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 Uganda and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno 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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Brand Nubian,
Nico,
The Leaves,
R.M.O.,
Slick Rick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
L. Decosne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Eden Ahbez,
The Walker Brothers,
Carl Craig,
China Crisis,
Technova,
Pet Shop Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Kayak,
JFA,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
Wings,
Kurtis Blow,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Scientists,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DJ Sneak,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Colin Newman,
Eurythmics,
Pantytec,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry Gold Smith,
D'Angelo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.