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 Guinea-Bissau and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kas Product to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Toasters,
The Cramps,
Anthony Braxton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grey Daturas,
Bob Dylan,
Sugar Minott,
The Searchers,
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wire,
The Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
PIL,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bronski Beat,
Groovy Waters,
Fela Kuti,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Davy DMX,
Eve St. Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Slackers,
Country Teasers,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
Panda Bear,
Rufus Thomas,
Albert Ayler,
Delta 5,
Joey Negro,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Fraelich,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
Sonic Youth,
a-ha,
Eden Ahbez,
Warren Ellis,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radio Birdman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.