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 Kenya and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Make Up to the crunk 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Amon Düül,
Essential Logic,
Laurel Aitken,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gregory Isaacs,
Susan Cadogan,
U.S. Maple,
Dual Sessions,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pussy Galore,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Quantec,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
Reagan Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Kool Moe Dee,
Khruangbin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Rhythm & Sound,
Can,
Franke,
Grey Daturas,
The Evens,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Parrish,
Unwound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Vainqueur,
AZ,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Erykah Badu,
Silicon Teens,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
Radiopuhelimet,
Skriet,
Yaz,
Alice Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
a-ha,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.