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 Turkey 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 cv313 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Letta Mbulu,
Livin' Joy,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
Country Teasers,
Hasil Adkins,
The Star Department,
The Angels of Light,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
The Happenings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultravox,
R.M.O.,
Donald Byrd,
K-Klass,
Lindisfarne,
Gong,
Donny Hathaway,
Fluxion,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Skarface,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lightning Bolt,
Eurythmics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slave,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scientists,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Womack,
Sun City Girls,
Wire,
Franke,
The Litter,
The Techniques,
Deadbeat,
Von Mondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Babytalk,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
The Names,
Mars,
The Gories,
Alphaville,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.