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 Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arthur Verocai to the jazz 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Dead C,
Sällskapet,
The Moody Blues,
Minor Threat,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Nils Olav,
AZ,
The Martian,
EPMD,
The Durutti Column,
Man Parrish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Jandek,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun City Girls,
Trumans Water,
Roxy Music,
The Leaves,
Junior Murvin,
Pharoah Sanders,
The American Breed,
Soul II Soul,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
Colin Newman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visage,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
Ultravox,
the Sonics,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hardrive,
Cymande,
Connie Case,
UT,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Fugazi,
Brand Nubian,
Unwound,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.