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 Montenegro and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Susan Cadogan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Index,
Niagra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
The Fugs,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
Scientists,
The Doors,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Stetsasonic,
Gang of Four,
John Foxx,
Loose Ends,
Janne Schatter,
Banda Bassotti,
Kayak,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gong,
Jerry's Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
H. Thieme,
The Young Rascals,
The Associates,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ice-T,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bauhaus,
Prince Buster,
Rekid,
Severed Heads,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Skarface,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alphaville,
Bang On A Can,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minutemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Gang Green,
Sight & Sound,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
New Order,
Swell Maps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.