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 Mozambique and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Yazoo to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Q65,
Ohio Players,
Accadde A,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Durutti Column,
The Happenings,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Fear,
Sight & Sound,
Interpol,
Aloha Tigers,
The Associates,
Moebius,
The Vogues,
Matthew Bourne,
Radio Birdman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scrapy,
The Remains,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Derrick May,
Kurtis Blow,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythm & Sound,
Josef K,
Boredoms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Smog,
Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Mad Mike,
The Names,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
Maleditus Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Outsiders,
Public Enemy,
Ronan,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erasure,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Don Cherry,
Ronnie Foster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.