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 Chile and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 PIL to the funk 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Red Krayola,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
John Foxx,
These Immortal Souls,
Tim Buckley,
Jacob Miller,
Crime,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Zeros,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Supertramp,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Mad Mike,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke,
Babytalk,
Piero Umiliani,
Rekid,
Black Moon,
Barbara Tucker,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
The Star Department,
The Names,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxette,
Audionom,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiohead,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Icehouse,
Quantec,
Bob Dylan,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.