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 Bulgaria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Soft Cell 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Young Rascals,
Buzzcocks,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Golliwogs,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
Byron Stingily,
FM Einheit,
Mars,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
cv313,
Sun Ra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mad Mike,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Subhumans,
ABC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Motions,
Delta 5,
Jesper Dahlback,
Glenn Branca,
Excepter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Starr,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alison Limerick,
Bob Dylan,
Aswad,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
The Walker Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Basic Channel,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Shuggie Otis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faust,
Desert Stars,
Severed Heads,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Maurizio,
Max Romeo,
PIL,
Gang Green,
MDC,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
The Monks,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.