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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Depeche Mode 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus 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?
Interpol,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Sneak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crime,
Warren Ellis,
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Pus,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Leonard Cohen,
Althea and Donna,
The Human League,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Howard Jones,
Cluster,
Lindisfarne,
Byron Stingily,
Hasil Adkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
Scratch Acid,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slits,
Whodini,
Underground Resistance,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Rufus Thomas,
Crash Course in Science,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Fugazi,
Alphaville,
Flamin' Groovies,
Altered Images,
Hoover,
Essential Logic,
L. Decosne,
Moby Grape,
Don Cherry,
Joey Negro,
Ten City,
Absolute Body Control,
Connie Case,
Pussy Galore,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.