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 Ghana and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rites of Spring to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Eddi Front,
Pussy Galore,
Ice-T,
Accadde A,
The Fugs,
Whodini,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
La Düsseldorf,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June of 44,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
Stockholm Monsters,
Au Pairs,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
Kayak,
Todd Terry,
Bootsy Collins,
Arcadia,
Al Stewart,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Flag,
Pagans,
Black Pus,
Kerri Chandler,
New Order,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Half Japanese,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
MDC,
Kurtis Blow,
This Heat,
Trumans Water,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Reuben Wilson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Buckinghams,
Excepter,
Unwound,
Yazoo,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.