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 Lesotho and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Sixth Finger,
Anakelly,
Blossom Toes,
the Association,
Bronski Beat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Mills,
New York Dolls,
The Smoke,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry's Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Q65,
Derrick May,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
The Sound,
the Slits,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skaos,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim,
Yellowson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Moon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scrapy,
Second Layer,
Stereo Dub,
Bauhaus,
Delta 5,
The Names,
Saccharine Trust,
Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Knickerbockers,
Grey Daturas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bizarre Inc.,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
Inner City,
The Litter,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
Hardrive,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Don Cherry,
Juan Atkins,
Colin Newman,
The Young Rascals,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.