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 Togo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell 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?
Bronski Beat,
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Young Rascals,
Cameo,
Lou Christie,
Lakeside,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Roger Hodgson,
Zapp,
Clear Light,
David McCallum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Mills,
Visage,
Yusef Lateef,
Nick Fraelich,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moody Blues,
Ituana,
Sister Nancy,
Minnie Riperton,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grey Daturas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ten City,
Nation of Ulysses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Outsiders,
The Fortunes,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Con Funk Shun,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cluster,
Organ,
Gang Green,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stereo Dub,
Unwound,
Howard Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Bowie,
Ponytail,
The Remains,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rapeman,
Arthur Verocai,
Charles Mingus,
Connie Case,
Lalann,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.