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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Hood,
Kenny Larkin,
Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
The Grass Roots,
Tommy Roe,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
James Chance & The Contortions,
R.M.O.,
Peter & Gordon,
The United States of America,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Raincoats,
Carl Craig,
Hoover,
The Toasters,
The Tremeloes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Human League,
The Golliwogs,
The Mummies,
Ponytail,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
Dennis Brown,
Monolake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
FM Einheit,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
L. Decosne,
Mantronix,
Danielle Patucci,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun City Girls,
Intrusion,
Audionom,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
Soft Cell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mission of Burma,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.