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 Chad and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 Rod Modell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Sneak,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
The Cramps,
Joey Negro,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
Trumans Water,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cheater Slicks,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Magma,
Little Man,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Mills,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Bourne,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Main Source,
The Durutti Column,
Excepter,
The United States of America,
Joe Smooth,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Golliwogs,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hardrive,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerri Chandler,
Ornette Coleman,
A Certain Ratio,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Searchers,
Man Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.