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 Philippines and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Robert Palmer 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 Bootsy Collins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Shoche,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Eating Sloth,
cv313,
Clear Light,
Underground Resistance,
The Pretty Things,
Kayak,
Don Cherry,
Lakeside,
The Tremeloes,
The Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
Ossler,
Quando Quango,
the Slits,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ice-T,
Theoretical Girls,
Bluetip,
Bootsy Collins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
The Misunderstood,
World's Most,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Nick Fraelich,
the Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Carl Craig,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiohead,
Ronan,
Buzzcocks,
Vladislav Delay,
James White and The Blacks,
The American Breed,
Slave,
Robert Wyatt,
Ituana,
Supertramp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Kinks,
Flash Fearless,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Leonard Cohen,
John Foxx,
Warren Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.