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 Finland and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
The Count Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
Brick,
Soulsonic Force,
Jawbox,
New Order,
The Busters,
Niagra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Arab on Radar,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skriet,
June of 44,
Schoolly D,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June Days,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
Parry Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rakim,
Franke,
Mark Hollis,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ice-T,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
U.S. Maple,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
Bronski Beat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smoke,
Faraquet,
Y Pants,
Jeff Lynne,
DNA,
Silicon Teens,
Henry Cow,
the Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.