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 Austria and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
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 arpeggiator 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 Eve St. Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Subhumans,
Section 25,
The Monochrome Set,
Das Ding,
X-102,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crash Course in Science,
New Order,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
China Crisis,
The Star Department,
The Birthday Party,
Camberwell Now,
Rekid,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
Parry Music,
Essential Logic,
Technova,
Pole,
Swans,
The Evens,
The Moody Blues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Charles Mingus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arab on Radar,
Dave Gahan,
Pylon,
Yazoo,
UT,
Black Pus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
The Real Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Easy Going,
Prince Buster,
Bill Wells,
The Gladiators,
DNA,
The Beau Brummels,
Agent Orange,
Brick,
Fear,
The American Breed,
The Gories,
Ituana,
OOIOO,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.