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 Nauru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Technova to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Talk Talk,
Can,
Qualms,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bad Manners,
The Mojo Men,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
The Dead C,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
Zapp,
The Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Derrick Morgan,
Zero Boys,
Amazonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ice-T,
The Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soul Sonic Force,
PIL,
Eddi Front,
Brass Construction,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
Sugar Minott,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Schoolly D,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
F. McDonald,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stereo Dub,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.