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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gong to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Swans,
Freddie Wadling,
Spoonie Gee,
Simply Red,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
FM Einheit,
Prince Buster,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Moody Blues,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
Archie Shepp,
Arthur Verocai,
Yazoo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rakim,
The Star Department,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
Average White Band,
Joyce Sims,
Brass Construction,
Moebius,
Gregory Isaacs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scientists,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
The Music Machine,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nick Fraelich,
ABC,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.