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 Djibouti and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alphaville to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Vainqueur,
Maurizio,
Morten Harket,
This Heat,
Cluster,
Silicon Teens,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tears for Fears,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
The New Christs,
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
These Immortal Souls,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
DJ Style,
Joensuu 1685,
The Victims,
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Joy Division,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Janne Schatter,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Almond,
Max Romeo,
Nik Kershaw,
Zapp,
Swans,
Neu!,
Grauzone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kaleidoscope,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.