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 Haiti and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 The Modern Lovers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
X-101,
Hot Snakes,
The Star Department,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scrapy,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
Minnie Riperton,
Tres Demented,
UT,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Neon Judgement,
Can,
Country Teasers,
Maurizio,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Foxx,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Hood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
Shoche,
Byron Stingily,
JFA,
Skriet,
Simply Red,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tommy Roe,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
The Index,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis,
Dual Sessions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neu!,
Television,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
Eli Mardock,
Fela Kuti,
The Slackers,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.