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 Liberia and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Soft Cell 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Arthur Verocai,
Symarip,
The Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Bronski Beat,
Jandek,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brick,
Yusef Lateef,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rekid,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Bananas,
Nils Olav,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
Animal Collective,
Robert Görl,
The Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
John Coltrane,
Dual Sessions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Wells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minnie Riperton,
Motorama,
Erasure,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
The Associates,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stetsasonic,
Al Stewart,
Audionom,
Blossom Toes,
Hoover,
Pantytec,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pere Ubu,
Mo-Dettes,
Kurtis Blow,
Colin Newman,
Rites of Spring,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warren Ellis,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.