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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 David Bowie 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 Sight & Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yellowson,
Ornette Coleman,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
Scrapy,
Warren Ellis,
Prince Buster,
Soul Sonic Force,
Judy Mowatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skaos,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jandek,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Fraelich,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric Copeland,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Model 500,
Minutemen,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
Ice-T,
Urselle,
This Heat,
Banda Bassotti,
Duran Duran,
The American Breed,
Aural Exciters,
Cal Tjader,
June Days,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tommy Roe,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oneida,
Lakeside,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
Silicon Teens,
Tubeway Army,
Johnny Clarke,
Sister Nancy,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.