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 Ukraine and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Section 25 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Stooges,
Arthur Verocai,
Eli Mardock,
The Detroit Cobras,
kango's stein massive,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
Dark Day,
LL Cool J,
Leonard Cohen,
Vladislav Delay,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Nik Kershaw,
Josef K,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Real Kids,
Liliput,
Reuben Wilson,
Depeche Mode,
Faust,
MDC,
Interpol,
T. Rex,
Soul II Soul,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rekid,
Sun City Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Mandrill,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
The Modern Lovers,
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Pole,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
Audionom,
Glenn Branca,
Rakim,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Matthew Halsall,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.