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 Qatar and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 La Düsseldorf to the grime 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Max Romeo,
Quantec,
the Association,
Michelle Simonal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q and Not U,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Country Teasers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funky Four + One,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fugazi,
Byron Stingily,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
Boz Scaggs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magazine,
The Remains,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
New Order,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Gerry Rafferty,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
T. Rex,
Wings,
Section 25,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Niagra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Young Marble Giants,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tomorrow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.