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 Russia and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Fluxion to the crunk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
The Slackers,
The Monks,
Quantec,
Hasil Adkins,
Soul II Soul,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
Eric Dolphy,
Panda Bear,
Shoche,
X-Ray Spex,
The Victims,
The Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Excepter,
Cameo,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yaz,
Peter and Kerry,
Parry Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jimmy McGriff,
Loose Ends,
Malaria!,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gladiators,
PIL,
Tears for Fears,
Juan Atkins,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
Tim Buckley,
Hashim,
Pylon,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Sun Ra,
Unwound,
Kas Product,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brick,
Rosa Yemen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fugazi,
The Angels of Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.