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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Scan 7 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pylon,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül,
Deadbeat,
Underground Resistance,
The Remains,
Jandek,
The Count Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Josef K,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Make Up,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Moleskins,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker,
Brand Nubian,
Piero Umiliani,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Erasure,
John Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
The Human League,
Nik Kershaw,
Graham Central Station,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Victims,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Womack,
Ten City,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
48th St. Collective,
Symarip,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tubeway Army,
Warren Ellis,
Arcadia,
Scrapy,
Black Sheep,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
Faraquet,
Kayak,
Eric Copeland,
Reagan Youth,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.