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 Maldives and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Newcleus to the disco 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Quantec,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxy Music,
Neu!,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül II,
Vainqueur,
Maleditus Sound,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lalo Schifrin,
Average White Band,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
Mad Mike,
The Fortunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mission of Burma,
Ice-T,
Tres Demented,
Hasil Adkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
Chris Corsano,
Hashim,
the Germs,
The New Christs,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick Morgan,
Jacques Brel,
Scratch Acid,
Metal Thangz,
Rites of Spring,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shuggie Otis,
Agitation Free,
Bob Dylan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
Pantaleimon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quadrant,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
Aloha Tigers,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.