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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
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 mellotron 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 Soul II Soul 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
Wings,
In Retrospect,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
Massinfluence,
Lightning Bolt,
New York Dolls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Enemy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pulsallama,
Whodini,
Laurel Aitken,
Warsaw,
Kurtis Blow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Victims,
Robert Hood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gun Club,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
The Vogues,
Interpol,
Aural Exciters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Walker Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
The Cowsills,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Second Layer,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.