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 Malaysia and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 cv313 to the grime 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
Dead Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
Unwound,
K-Klass,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alphaville,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dave Gahan,
Icehouse,
Delon & Dalcan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nico,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eli Mardock,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Invisible,
Agent Orange,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Walker Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Index,
The Doors,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Con Funk Shun,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.