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 Kazakhstan and from Tokyo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Byron Stingily,
The Misunderstood,
The Smiths,
Royal Trux,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Red Krayola,
F. McDonald,
Roxy Music,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Audionom,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Near,
Scratch Acid,
Tubeway Army,
Half Japanese,
Ituana,
The Electric Prunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moebius,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-Ray Spex,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Dolphy,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Mars,
Adolescents,
Vainqueur,
Tears for Fears,
Y Pants,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gun Club,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Sherman,
Au Pairs,
Circle Jerks,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Rotary Connection,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Graham Central Station,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.