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 Brazil and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Popol Vuh,
The Sound,
John Cale,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Niagra,
The Move,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
48th St. Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skarface,
Zero Boys,
Black Flag,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Hood,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Bourne,
Joy Division,
The Raincoats,
Adolescents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Standells,
The Residents,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
Suburban Knight,
Oblivians,
The Index,
Kayak,
Danielle Patucci,
Ronan,
CMW,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.