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 Senegal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Pulsallama,
The Walker Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Carl Craig,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
Gang Starr,
Todd Terry,
Eurythmics,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
Wally Richardson,
Sixth Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Essential Logic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Near,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rites of Spring,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Hill,
Icehouse,
The Misunderstood,
Wasted Youth,
Model 500,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
Visage,
Con Funk Shun,
Los Fastidios,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül,
Newcleus,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
Pylon,
Grey Daturas,
Spandau Ballet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light,
Faraquet,
Duran Duran,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.