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 Honduras and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Lightning Bolt to the dance 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
FM Einheit,
New York Dolls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maurizio,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker,
Youth Brigade,
Trumans Water,
Goldenarms,
Spoonie Gee,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül II,
Pulsallama,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Patti Smith,
Soft Machine,
Derrick May,
The Cowsills,
Jeff Mills,
The Pop Group,
The Residents,
Piero Umiliani,
The Modern Lovers,
Junior Murvin,
The Grass Roots,
Danielle Patucci,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun City Girls,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
Terry Callier,
Absolute Body Control,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Slits,
Josef K,
The Evens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Derrick Morgan,
Morten Harket,
Minutemen,
Graham Central Station,
Moby Grape,
Groovy Waters,
New Order,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
Arcadia,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.