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 Lagos.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Walker Brothers to the grunge 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Joy Division,
Anakelly,
U.S. Maple,
Desert Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Oneida,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
Donny Hathaway,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tim Buckley,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Brothers Johnson,
Letta Mbulu,
Minnie Riperton,
Minutemen,
The Names,
The Victims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Eddi Front,
Zero Boys,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scion,
Niagra,
Andrew Hill,
Sight & Sound,
The Martian,
Joensuu 1685,
Wire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Birthday Party,
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Maleditus Sound,
Liliput,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.