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 Rwanda and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Siglo XX to the rap 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Victims,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
The Wake,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
UT,
Altered Images,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
Scion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nirvana,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young,
Fatback Band,
the Swans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Motions,
OOIOO,
Pantytec,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare,
a-ha,
Saccharine Trust,
Second Layer,
Bill Wells,
Juan Atkins,
Jawbox,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Wyatt,
Bad Manners,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
The Zeros,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Amon Düül,
Absolute Body Control,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.