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 Jamaica and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
The Motions,
The Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
Thee Headcoats,
Fat Boys,
The Selecter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glambeats Corp.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blackbyrds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
One Last Wish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Star Department,
Bad Manners,
Porter Ricks,
Boz Scaggs,
Warren Ellis,
Roxy Music,
Bauhaus,
Jandek,
Camberwell Now,
Marc Almond,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brass Construction,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Whodini,
Faraquet,
The Pop Group,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dennis Brown,
Ronnie Foster,
Faust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Infiniti,
Eurythmics,
Depeche Mode,
Shoche,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fugs,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
Make Up,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
The Neon Judgement,
Sister Nancy,
Bootsy Collins,
ABBA,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.