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 Belgium and from Portland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Anakelly to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Evens,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Monks,
Terry Callier,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
Scion,
Neu!,
Country Teasers,
Harmonia,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
Maurizio,
Bill Near,
Nik Kershaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed,
Q65,
Graham Central Station,
Connie Case,
Sällskapet,
Fela Kuti,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eve St. Jones,
the Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultravox,
Cybotron,
Tim Buckley,
Prince Buster,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
Metal Thangz,
Quando Quango,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
The Cowsills,
The Motions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Grauzone,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.