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 Kuwait and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 La Düsseldorf to the dance 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
the Human League,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swans,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
Kaleidoscope,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nirvana,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Human League,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Görl,
Vainqueur,
Girls At Our Best!,
Prince Buster,
Au Pairs,
Country Teasers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Metal Thangz,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Groovy Waters,
Roxy Music,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris & Cosey,
June Days,
Wire,
Monks,
Gang Green,
The Five Americans,
Kenny Larkin,
Suburban Knight,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Rhythm & Sound,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
Qualms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eddi Front,
Bootsy Collins,
Mantronix,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yazoo,
Aswad,
Robert Wyatt,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.