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 Uruguay and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kerrie Biddell to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Yaz,
Cybotron,
The Red Krayola,
Country Teasers,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faust,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
X-102,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Lydon,
Little Man,
Ossler,
Metal Thangz,
La Düsseldorf,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alphaville,
Mad Mike,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Pole,
Blossom Toes,
The Dirtbombs,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Piero Umiliani,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
LL Cool J,
Josef K,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
Radiohead,
Ronnie Foster,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Smog,
The Trojans,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.