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 Saudi Arabia and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
Panda Bear,
Unwound,
Letta Mbulu,
Sarah Menescal,
Unrelated Segments,
Hoover,
The Stooges,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
the Bar-Kays,
The Tremeloes,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Second Layer,
Organ,
Popol Vuh,
The Pop Group,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Quando Quango,
The Music Machine,
The Busters,
The Residents,
Todd Rundgren,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy Collins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Cale,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Skriet,
Eddi Front,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
Mission of Burma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Funkadelic,
Todd Terry,
Gang of Four,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mantronix,
The Vogues,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Spoonie Gee,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.