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 Paraguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 X-102 to the crunk 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swell Maps,
James White and The Blacks,
Mad Mike,
Magma,
The Toasters,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
Althea and Donna,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Aswad,
The Searchers,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Misunderstood,
Peter and Kerry,
Wings,
UT,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Busters,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Adolescents,
Joe Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Los Fastidios,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare,
The Seeds,
Todd Terry,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
Eric Dolphy,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex,
Loose Ends,
The Velvet Underground,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alice Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
Das Ding,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Black Moon,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.