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 Guinea-Bissau and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 The Cure to the dance 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
The Human League,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Nirvana,
The Offenders,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Deakin,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Connie Case,
Yusef Lateef,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Magma,
Urselle,
Scott Walker,
Television Personalities,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gap Band,
Jacques Brel,
the Normal,
the Soft Cell,
Cymande,
Reagan Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cameo,
The Blackbyrds,
Royal Trux,
Sister Nancy,
Outsiders,
The Buckinghams,
Henry Cow,
Ossler,
Marvin Gaye,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
Vainqueur,
Rites of Spring,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Davy DMX,
The Wake,
Panda Bear,
Agitation Free,
The Music Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yazoo,
Sun Ra,
Robert Hood,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.