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 Mongolia and from London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Nik Kershaw to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boredoms,
Von Mondo,
Trumans Water,
The Stooges,
Susan Cadogan,
Kayak,
Juan Atkins,
Rufus Thomas,
Ten City,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fuzztones,
Bluetip,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter & Gordon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
John Lydon,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jandek,
Average White Band,
Drexciya,
Robert Wyatt,
Ossler,
Black Flag,
Monolake,
Pantytec,
Amon Düül II,
Thee Headcoats,
Marc Almond,
Eve St. Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Zapp,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
Donny Hathaway,
The Trojans,
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
the Sonics,
This Heat,
Lower 48,
Lyres,
Japan,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.