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 Spain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin 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 Dual Sessions to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The Litter,
Mars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Brand Nubian,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sisters of Mercy,
CMW,
cv313,
The Sound,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
The Vogues,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Black Bananas,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman,
The Fall,
The Offenders,
Trumans Water,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Last Poets,
Josef K,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Organ,
Whodini,
The Detroit Cobras,
James White and The Blacks,
The Stooges,
Bobby Sherman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Make Up,
The Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fat Boys,
Quadrant,
The Black Dice,
Franke,
Yellowson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.