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 Guatemala and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alison Limerick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
MDC,
the Fania All-Stars,
Khruangbin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chris Corsano,
The Searchers,
Steve Hackett,
Mars,
Amon Düül,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
JFA,
Aloha Tigers,
Rufus Thomas,
Quantec,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Halsall,
Connie Case,
Television,
Monks,
Gong,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Peter and Kerry,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
Joy Division,
Royal Trux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Starr,
Echospace,
Audionom,
T.S.O.L.,
Supertramp,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Near,
Carl Craig,
Terrestrial Tones,
Y Pants,
Joyce Sims,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Tres Demented,
Black Flag,
Jerry's Kids,
Morten Harket,
Pere Ubu,
Jawbox,
X-102,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lakeside,
Popol Vuh,
World's Most,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.