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 Bahamas and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wings to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Soft Cell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tears for Fears,
Pantaleimon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
U.S. Maple,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
The Black Dice,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Absolute Body Control,
Swell Maps,
L. Decosne,
The Divine Comedy,
Sex Pistols,
Rekid,
Danielle Patucci,
The Walker Brothers,
Ohio Players,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
China Crisis,
Marine Girls,
Mark Hollis,
the Swans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Sun City Girls,
Simply Red,
June Days,
Wings,
Skaos,
Lightning Bolt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
Joe Smooth,
Black Sheep,
Leonard Cohen,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills,
The Angels of Light,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.