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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Unrelated Segments to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Brand Nubian,
Deadbeat,
The Grass Roots,
The Count Five,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Smiths,
Scott Walker,
Barrington Levy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Technova,
Joensuu 1685,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
Hashim,
The Monochrome Set,
Electric Light Orchestra,
MDC,
Ronan,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Bronski Beat,
DNA,
David Bowie,
Motorama,
Rufus Thomas,
Byron Stingily,
Pet Shop Boys,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Ornette Coleman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Busters,
B.T. Express,
The Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
The Wake,
Wire,
Depeche Mode,
Youth Brigade,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Skriet,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Reagan Youth,
Y Pants,
Procol Harum,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.