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 Finland and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Donald Fagen 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 Circle Jerks to the punk 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
Aloha Tigers,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Tom Boy,
Royal Trux,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mars,
The Knickerbockers,
Mantronix,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skarface,
Japan,
Max Romeo,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
The Blackbyrds,
Make Up,
Depeche Mode,
New Order,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
K-Klass,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
A Certain Ratio,
the Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
The Misunderstood,
48th St. Collective,
Erasure,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
E-Dancer,
Visage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Jeff Mills,
The Techniques,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Con Funk Shun,
FM Einheit,
PIL,
Ultra Naté,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-102,
The Mummies,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.