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 Korea South and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Gerry Rafferty to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Kurtis Blow,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Urselle,
The J.B.'s,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
The Invisible,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
The Techniques,
The Cramps,
K-Klass,
Qualms,
Echospace,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ituana,
Bobby Womack,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
X-Ray Spex,
Blossom Toes,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MDC,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Cymande,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxette,
Zapp,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Easy Going,
Lakeside,
Jerry's Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Moebius,
Tomorrow,
Fatback Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
Arab on Radar,
The Fall,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fuzztones,
Main Source,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.