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 Eritrea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Throbbing Gristle to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Ultravox,
James White and The Blacks,
Trumans Water,
Make Up,
Mars,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
Aswad,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slave,
Excepter,
Eddi Front,
Khruangbin,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
Adolescents,
Letta Mbulu,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
Joyce Sims,
The Black Dice,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sonics,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
The Birthday Party,
Ten City,
The Evens,
F. McDonald,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dennis Brown,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
In Retrospect,
Sugar Minott,
Wings,
Delta 5,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Junior Murvin,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pierre Henry,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.