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 Swaziland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rekid to the grime 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
Tres Demented,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
the Germs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Ornette Coleman,
Pussy Galore,
Arab on Radar,
Brick,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Sister Nancy,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Durutti Column,
Crash Course in Science,
The Toasters,
Slave,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
Surgeon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
David McCallum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
One Last Wish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
a-ha,
The Residents,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masters at Work,
Banda Bassotti,
The Leaves,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Easy Going,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.