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 Fiji and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Animal Collective to the electroclash 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang of Four,
Y Pants,
Supertramp,
Yusef Lateef,
The Beau Brummels,
Tommy Roe,
Icehouse,
8 Eyed Spy,
Amon Düül,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
Mandrill,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
Steve Hackett,
Can,
One Last Wish,
Echospace,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Star Department,
Cymande,
Gang Gang Dance,
Judy Mowatt,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
Angry Samoans,
Desert Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
Wire,
The Music Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Lynne,
Kaleidoscope,
X-Ray Spex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Malaria!,
Patti Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Section 25,
Stetsasonic,
The Kinks,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mojo Men,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.