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 Venezuela 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Roger Hodgson to the crunk 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiohead,
Das Ding,
8 Eyed Spy,
World's Most,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
Wire,
Clear Light,
Stereo Dub,
Bootsy Collins,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Durutti Column,
The Dirtbombs,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kurtis Blow,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Ornette Coleman,
Heaven 17,
Agitation Free,
Wally Richardson,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Knickerbockers,
Nico,
Grauzone,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Absolute Body Control,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tears for Fears,
Junior Murvin,
These Immortal Souls,
Q65,
The Five Americans,
MDC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Busters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marvin Gaye,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.