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 France and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Underground Resistance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The United States of America,
Pierre Henry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Piero Umiliani,
The Evens,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marc Almond,
Gang of Four,
Arcadia,
The Modern Lovers,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne,
Henry Cow,
Flipper,
Outsiders,
Clear Light,
CMW,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donny Hathaway,
Scrapy,
Average White Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tubeway Army,
DNA,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
Bobby Byrd,
David McCallum,
Shoche,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.