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 Indonesia and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Archie Shepp,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
Soulsonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Morten Harket,
Black Flag,
The Motions,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erasure,
Pagans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
Rosa Yemen,
The Remains,
Index,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
Max Romeo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unrelated Segments,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kayak,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fall,
Marmalade,
ABBA,
Joyce Sims,
The Dave Clark Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Bourne,
Dave Gahan,
Blossom Toes,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
The Raincoats,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Prince Buster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.