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 Micronesia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Mr. Review to the dance 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Graham Central Station,
The Happenings,
Silicon Teens,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Normal,
Nick Fraelich,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Faust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
The Golliwogs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magazine,
Marine Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Derrick May,
cv313,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Laurel Aitken,
These Immortal Souls,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Babytalk,
The Remains,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Bad Manners,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Finger,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
Pet Shop Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.