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 Turkey and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Michael McDonald 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 Drexciya to the punk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Clear Light,
Whodini,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
The Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
Surgeon,
Lucky Dragons,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Saccharine Trust,
UT,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed,
Deepchord,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
ABC,
Quantec,
Bill Wells,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pylon,
Con Funk Shun,
Magma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crooked Eye,
The Last Poets,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Excepter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Easy Going,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Amazonics,
Tres Demented,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yazoo,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Depeche Mode,
Mantronix,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.