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 Italy and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Lucky Dragons to the grunge 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
The Fortunes,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Nirvana,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Thompson Twins,
Harmonia,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Germs,
T. Rex,
Pulsallama,
Jandek,
Country Teasers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Fatback Band,
Aural Exciters,
Soulsonic Force,
The Human League,
Quadrant,
Outsiders,
Pagans,
Excepter,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Eve St. Jones,
Basic Channel,
Skriet,
China Crisis,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Stiv Bators,
Nico,
Joy Division,
the Swans,
Cameo,
James White and The Blacks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mantronix,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.