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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
Gong,
Sun Ra,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Monks,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ken Boothe,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Quantec,
Basic Channel,
Slick Rick,
Index,
The Mummies,
Average White Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Sonic Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool Moe Dee,
Zero Boys,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Heaven 17,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reagan Youth,
Lakeside,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Adolescents,
The Pretty Things,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Wake,
Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash,
Franke,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
Zapp,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.