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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rap 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Andrew Hill,
Sam Rivers,
Agent Orange,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
Sonic Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Kerri Chandler,
Kayak,
Radiohead,
Bush Tetras,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Starr,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Fad Gadget,
Flash Fearless,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
Tres Demented,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
a-ha,
The Modern Lovers,
Khruangbin,
Isaac Hayes,
The Neon Judgement,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
World's Most,
Accadde A,
Hashim,
Ludus,
Deadbeat,
Arcadia,
Pet Shop Boys,
B.T. Express,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.