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 Cameroon and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Agitation Free to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pretty Things,
Kerri Chandler,
Fort Wilson Riot,
China Crisis,
The Modern Lovers,
a-ha,
Jacques Brel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bill Near,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
The Associates,
New Order,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra,
Radio Birdman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Howard Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smoke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Masters at Work,
Pulsallama,
Massinfluence,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
Marmalade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Zapp,
John Lydon,
Black Pus,
Bauhaus,
Guru Guru,
Quadrant,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
Eric B and Rakim,
Can,
The Golliwogs,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
The Gun Club,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronan,
Ultra Naté,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.