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 Australia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
the Bar-Kays,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rosa Yemen,
Faust,
Ponytail,
ABBA,
Harmonia,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lyres,
the Association,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flash Fearless,
Altered Images,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
The Gladiators,
The Monochrome Set,
Nirvana,
Deakin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Move,
Toni Rubio,
Lalann,
Vladislav Delay,
Crooked Eye,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
The J.B.'s,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
Donny Hathaway,
Agitation Free,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
The Offenders,
F. McDonald,
Unwound,
Franke,
Oblivians,
Sister Nancy,
The Young Rascals,
Prince Buster,
KRS-One,
Aswad,
The Cowsills,
Crime,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Royal Trux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Lydon,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.