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 Brazil and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Mad Mike to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Techniques,
FM Einheit,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
LL Cool J,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gories,
Spoonie Gee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Sixth Finger,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
The Slits,
The Victims,
Interpol,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echospace,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Sex Pistols,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crash Course in Science,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
The Barracudas,
Electric Prunes,
Monks,
Tim Buckley,
John Lydon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
Camouflage,
Pole,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Invisible,
Nirvana,
Quadrant,
Scan 7,
Scientists,
The Kinks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Khruangbin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.