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 Gabon and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Howard Jones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Carl Craig,
Tim Buckley,
Zapp,
Jeff Mills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Inner City,
The Remains,
The Divine Comedy,
Ossler,
Toni Rubio,
Yazoo,
Morten Harket,
John Coltrane,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sällskapet,
Outsiders,
Ohio Players,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül II,
Royal Trux,
Dead Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Toasters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Todd Rundgren,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Negative Approach,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
The Seeds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Talk Talk,
Bill Near,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang of Four,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Depeche Mode,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Au Pairs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
Neil Young,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.