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 East Timor and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Donald Fagen 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 Joe Finger to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
The Busters,
Interpol,
Buzzcocks,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Raincoats,
Jacob Miller,
Scan 7,
Siglo XX,
The Modern Lovers,
Andrew Hill,
Crime,
Dennis Brown,
Newcleus,
The Stooges,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Panda Bear,
The Vogues,
Royal Trux,
Rekid,
Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Supertramp,
Urselle,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dark Day,
Procol Harum,
Moss Icon,
Dual Sessions,
Spoonie Gee,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barry Ungar,
Ice-T,
Accadde A,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
Cecil Taylor,
the Human League,
Terry Callier,
Crooked Eye,
Neil Young,
Sister Nancy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Star Department,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.