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 Hungary 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Arab on Radar 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Talk Talk,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Halsall,
The Moleskins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joy Division,
10cc,
Stetsasonic,
Pagans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Iggy Pop,
Interpol,
Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sam Rivers,
Trumans Water,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
Minny Pops,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
The Sonics,
Morten Harket,
Terry Callier,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
a-ha,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The United States of America,
Robert Görl,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Skatalites,
Shoche,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
Reagan Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Minutemen,
Country Teasers,
The Toasters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.