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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Pulsallama to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Model 500,
June Days,
Mantronix,
Delta 5,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
Black Flag,
Saccharine Trust,
Absolute Body Control,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pussy Galore,
The Star Department,
Trumans Water,
The Smiths,
Yazoo,
New Age Steppers,
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
Morten Harket,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Cell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
Grey Daturas,
Ponytail,
Panda Bear,
Silicon Teens,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Bang On A Can,
The Trojans,
The Walker Brothers,
Pagans,
One Last Wish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ossler,
Bootsy Collins,
Arthur Verocai,
Cluster,
a-ha,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
Symarip,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
Quando Quango,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
Alice Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.