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 Botswana and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Delon & Dalcan to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Spandau Ballet,
Steve Hackett,
This Heat,
David Bowie,
The Tremeloes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Index,
David Axelrod,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Names,
Lower 48,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
June of 44,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Monks,
Harry Pussy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Adolescents,
Kurtis Blow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Görl,
The Pop Group,
The Associates,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
Hasil Adkins,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Sonics,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
The Smiths,
The Techniques,
The Evens,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camouflage,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.