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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cure,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
R.M.O.,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
Siglo XX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
UT,
Main Source,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erykah Badu,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
Don Cherry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Morten Harket,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
Yaz,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
D'Angelo,
The Residents,
Nirvana,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sonics,
Agent Orange,
The Dead C,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
LL Cool J,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kurtis Blow,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Das Ding,
The Selecter,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
The Barracudas,
Warsaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.