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 Chad and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Steve Hackett to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Count Five,
Rekid,
Jeff Mills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bluetip,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
Zapp,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fall,
Fugazi,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Al Stewart,
Flipper,
Kas Product,
Simply Red,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mo-Dettes,
Outsiders,
Lyres,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul II Soul,
Chris Corsano,
The Human League,
the Association,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
OOIOO,
Fear,
Pole,
Kayak,
Hasil Adkins,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Copeland,
Dual Sessions,
10cc,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
Whodini,
Organ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.