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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Tom Boy,
ABBA,
Josef K,
Scientists,
Derrick May,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
the Slits,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
Radio Birdman,
Monolake,
Hashim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gap Band,
Cybotron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül II,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
The Neon Judgement,
The Leaves,
Faraquet,
The Knickerbockers,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Fraelich,
Tomorrow,
Magazine,
Groovy Waters,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Accadde A,
Guru Guru,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.