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 Tonga and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 F. McDonald to the punk 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Aaron Thompson,
DNA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Connie Case,
Robert Hood,
Rites of Spring,
The Associates,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
E-Dancer,
Rekid,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Byrd,
Half Japanese,
Sarah Menescal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crispy Ambulance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Make Up,
Grauzone,
Can,
Yaz,
Gil Scott Heron,
LL Cool J,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Black Pus,
Henry Cow,
Soulsonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
Cluster,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Infiniti,
The Index,
Dead Boys,
the Association,
The Fortunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
Fear,
Iggy Pop,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marine Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
The United States of America,
Lakeside,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.