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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
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 synthesizer 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 Harpers Bizarre to the dance 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Metal Thangz,
The Grass Roots,
Wire,
Marmalade,
Camberwell Now,
a-ha,
Derrick May,
Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aaron Thompson,
The Red Krayola,
Derrick Morgan,
Mad Mike,
Zapp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
UT,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxette,
Infiniti,
B.T. Express,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra,
Q and Not U,
Kerri Chandler,
Magma,
Hoover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.