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 Japan 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 Supertramp to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Colin Newman,
The Mojo Men,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Max Romeo,
Bush Tetras,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
Drexciya,
Davy DMX,
Deepchord,
Khruangbin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Neon Judgement,
Ice-T,
Absolute Body Control,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ituana,
Sun City Girls,
Panda Bear,
Brick,
Lakeside,
KRS-One,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pierre Henry,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Morten Harket,
Amazonics,
Duran Duran,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
Pulsallama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
John Lydon,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Depeche Mode,
Metal Thangz,
Chrome,
T.S.O.L.,
Schoolly D,
Nick Fraelich,
Curtis Mayfield,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
Eddi Front,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.