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 Zambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Howard Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Sherman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Public Enemy,
The Kinks,
Monolake,
The Litter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James White and The Blacks,
The Tremeloes,
Fad Gadget,
Kayak,
X-101,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kas Product,
Davy DMX,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soul II Soul,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Walker Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Starr,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stiv Bators,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
Loose Ends,
John Cale,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
PIL,
Spandau Ballet,
Freddie Wadling,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Holt,
The Zeros,
Black Flag,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo,
The Move,
Amazonics,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
Flipper,
DJ Style,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.