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 Bahrain and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joensuu 1685 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Al Stewart,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Searchers,
Drexciya,
The Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Max Romeo,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
Lucky Dragons,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
Crash Course in Science,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
Depeche Mode,
Circle Jerks,
Black Flag,
L. Decosne,
Funky Four + One,
Nico,
Bobby Byrd,
The Vogues,
Black Bananas,
Zapp,
Guru Guru,
Janne Schatter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Swans,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
The Busters,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skaos,
The Fortunes,
Eli Mardock,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dennis Brown,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rod Modell,
Agitation Free,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alphaville,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Five Americans,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.