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 Finland and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
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 marimba 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 The Buckinghams to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Franke,
Warsaw,
Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wally Richardson,
Sex Pistols,
Agent Orange,
DJ Style,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Starr,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rosa Yemen,
the Association,
Ponytail,
Bill Near,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
These Immortal Souls,
Wolf Eyes,
Yusef Lateef,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Freddie Wadling,
Lower 48,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
The Cramps,
Robert Hood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Section 25,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
Marvin Gaye,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.