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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar 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 Yellowson to the dance 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camouflage,
Babytalk,
Thee Headcoats,
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Fluxion,
David Bowie,
Joey Negro,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kas Product,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Litter,
Ohio Players,
the Soft Cell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Frankie Knuckles,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gladiators,
Soft Machine,
China Crisis,
The Music Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
Morten Harket,
Archie Shepp,
Los Fastidios,
Rufus Thomas,
Alphaville,
Suburban Knight,
The Remains,
ABC,
Cal Tjader,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
Al Stewart,
Steve Hackett,
Absolute Body Control,
Tears for Fears,
Peter and Kerry,
Intrusion,
Minor Threat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Index,
The Black Dice,
Little Man,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
Blossom Toes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Altered Images,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.