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 Gabon and from London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers,
Alton Ellis,
John Foxx,
Heaven 17,
Das Ding,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Model 500,
Average White Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Technova,
JFA,
Can,
Andrew Hill,
Barrington Levy,
The Grass Roots,
Eddi Front,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Leonard Cohen,
PIL,
Rites of Spring,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Subhumans,
Public Image Ltd.,
cv313,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
Eurythmics,
Nils Olav,
Intrusion,
Kenny Larkin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Starr,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy Collins,
Outsiders,
Yellowson,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sonic Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Toni Rubio,
Charles Mingus,
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.