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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Angels of Light,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Scott Walker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
Piero Umiliani,
Whodini,
Erykah Badu,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
Slave,
Eric Copeland,
Ice-T,
Ultravox,
Liliput,
Alphaville,
Drexciya,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
David Axelrod,
Hasil Adkins,
the Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
The Beau Brummels,
Ten City,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Leonard Cohen,
Throbbing Gristle,
Guru Guru,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Teasers,
Severed Heads,
Yellowson,
Aaron Thompson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick Morgan,
Swell Maps,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arthur Verocai,
Kenny Larkin,
The Misunderstood,
Tomorrow,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.