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 Antigua and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Techniques to the rap 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Niagra,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
Average White Band,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Silicon Teens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Starr,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
Unrelated Segments,
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minor Threat,
Franke,
Adolescents,
Barrington Levy,
The Searchers,
Brick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Monolake,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Alarm Clocks,
Prince Buster,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fugazi,
Black Bananas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Urselle,
Chris & Cosey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tears for Fears,
Fatback Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.