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 Madagascar and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Archie Shepp to the grunge 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Soul Sonic Force,
This Heat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grauzone,
Little Man,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
Camouflage,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flash Fearless,
Slick Rick,
a-ha,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Depeche Mode,
Agitation Free,
John Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
The American Breed,
Rufus Thomas,
JFA,
Connie Case,
Todd Terry,
Ossler,
Infiniti,
Soft Machine,
Blancmange,
Fad Gadget,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Joyce Sims,
Index,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Walker Brothers,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
Yusef Lateef,
June Days,
Minny Pops,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Mr. Review,
the Human League,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.