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 Serbia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Flesh Eaters 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Pylon,
Whodini,
Scott Walker,
The United States of America,
The Busters,
The Sonics,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
Oneida,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
Subhumans,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Khruangbin,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jandek,
Saccharine Trust,
World's Most,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Swans,
Gong,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Starr,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Marine Girls,
K-Klass,
Lower 48,
The Index,
Toni Rubio,
Eurythmics,
Urselle,
Graham Central Station,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Görl,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Main Source,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
the Normal,
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.