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 Australia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 H. Thieme to the funk 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Clarke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Porter Ricks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T. Rex,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Yaz,
B.T. Express,
This Heat,
Black Pus,
Section 25,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
Warsaw,
Althea and Donna,
Stetsasonic,
Bronski Beat,
The Move,
Roger Hodgson,
Flipper,
Lindisfarne,
Crash Course in Science,
Kayak,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rites of Spring,
Symarip,
Marmalade,
Judy Mowatt,
ABBA,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Kevin Saunderson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang of Four,
Jacob Miller,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Radiohead,
F. McDonald,
Deadbeat,
KRS-One,
Funkadelic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.