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 Andorra and from New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Echo & the Bunnymen 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Thee Headcoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun Ra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gladiators,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
Ornette Coleman,
Connie Case,
FM Einheit,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eurythmics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tres Demented,
The Red Krayola,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dawn Penn,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
Gang of Four,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
Minny Pops,
John Lydon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
The Young Rascals,
Cecil Taylor,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Hasil Adkins,
Ponytail,
Bush Tetras,
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cowsills,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Pretty Things,
The Gap Band,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.