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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Anthony Braxton to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cybotron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Davy DMX,
Chris Corsano,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
Soulsonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
JFA,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monolake,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
Adolescents,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Icehouse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Reagan Youth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bush Tetras,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
Motorama,
Eric Copeland,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Angels of Light,
Wings,
Sun Ra,
Deepchord,
The Motions,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echospace,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Duran Duran,
Vainqueur,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cal Tjader,
Suburban Knight,
F. McDonald,
Yazoo,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.