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 Equatorial Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Yazoo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
Niagra,
Depeche Mode,
the Germs,
Skarface,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
Robert Wyatt,
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
David Axelrod,
Barclay James Harvest,
Inner City,
Dark Day,
Bobby Womack,
Funkadelic,
Stereo Dub,
James White and The Blacks,
Aloha Tigers,
Little Man,
Derrick May,
Eddi Front,
Toni Rubio,
Ornette Coleman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
Spoonie Gee,
Q65,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television Personalities,
Neu!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soulsonic Force,
MDC,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
The Raincoats,
Thee Headcoats,
Lungfish,
Dennis Brown,
Von Mondo,
Kayak,
Scratch Acid,
Scientists,
Brothers Johnson,
Soft Machine,
The Evens,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry's Kids,
Dave Gahan,
Yellowson,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter & Gordon,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.