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 Maldives and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 The Dead C to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
The Misunderstood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stetsasonic,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swell Maps,
Crooked Eye,
Max Romeo,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magazine,
The Human League,
the Association,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
Hoover,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
Faraquet,
Harmonia,
Make Up,
Agitation Free,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
Reagan Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Bad Manners,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
Hasil Adkins,
Sparks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cowsills,
David Bowie,
Josef K,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
Alice Coltrane,
Joey Negro,
Vladislav Delay,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chris Corsano,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.