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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siglo XX to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Motorama,
Slave,
Kenny Larkin,
Babytalk,
Roxy Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Clear Light,
Neil Young,
Public Image Ltd.,
Iggy Pop,
the Normal,
Radiopuhelimet,
Can,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sister Nancy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David McCallum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Intrusion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Make Up,
Mad Mike,
Parry Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
The Monks,
The Cowsills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Lydon,
The J.B.'s,
Tim Buckley,
John Cale,
Magma,
UT,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moleskins,
Nation of Ulysses,
B.T. Express,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
JFA,
Radio Birdman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
The Young Rascals,
Peter & Gordon,
Sandy B,
Blossom Toes,
Nirvana,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.