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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Hill,
Au Pairs,
Juan Atkins,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
Carl Craig,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Evens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Deakin,
CMW,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Mills,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lyres,
Gang of Four,
Negative Approach,
Heaven 17,
T.S.O.L.,
Mandrill,
LL Cool J,
Boz Scaggs,
KRS-One,
Slave,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
The Blues Magoos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tim Buckley,
Nick Fraelich,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scrapy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tom Boy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Copeland,
The Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Boredoms,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.