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 Denmark and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 New Age Steppers to the disco 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
the Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
Robert Hood,
Sex Pistols,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Minutemen,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
Nas,
Ken Boothe,
the Swans,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick May,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
The Remains,
Whodini,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
Brass Construction,
Harmonia,
Todd Rundgren,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
The Zeros,
Icehouse,
Brick,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Green,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Royal Trux,
World's Most,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
Tears for Fears,
The United States of America,
the Association,
Flash Fearless,
Index,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.