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 Thailand and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
La Düsseldorf,
Sound Behaviour,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Cameo,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unwound,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gladiators,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Q and Not U,
Soul II Soul,
Slick Rick,
Nico,
Bang On A Can,
The Durutti Column,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
Funkadelic,
Joe Finger,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
Man Parrish,
Accadde A,
The Move,
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Joy Division,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Rufus Thomas,
Hasil Adkins,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
T.S.O.L.,
the Soft Cell,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.