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 Lebanon and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joey Negro to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
B.T. Express,
The Residents,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Selecter,
Neu!,
Skarface,
Ultravox,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Symarip,
Faust,
Rufus Thomas,
Gichy Dan,
Second Layer,
a-ha,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
The Offenders,
Laurel Aitken,
Supertramp,
Animal Collective,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Birthday Party,
Scientists,
Scion,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Blossom Toes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crash Course in Science,
Ornette Coleman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
The Human League,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
kango's stein massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
The Divine Comedy,
Bauhaus,
Ronan,
Isaac Hayes,
The Martian,
The Searchers,
Kayak,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joy Division,
Arcadia,
John Cale,
La Düsseldorf,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.