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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wake 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
Sparks,
The Mummies,
Ronan,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
Zapp,
Shuggie Otis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Public Enemy,
Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
Nils Olav,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Human League,
The Star Department,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang of Four,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Ludus,
Cecil Taylor,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Rotary Connection,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Bourne,
Funkadelic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amazonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vainqueur,
Magma,
David Axelrod,
One Last Wish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scion,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.