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 Libya and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 OOIOO to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
Wolf Eyes,
Blancmange,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
Connie Case,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doors,
Al Stewart,
Alphaville,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
The Seeds,
Funkadelic,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
Deakin,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siglo XX,
Boredoms,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fear,
Peter and Kerry,
Josef K,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Pus,
Ronnie Foster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Spandau Ballet,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
Stetsasonic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minutemen,
Eddi Front,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
Japan,
Grauzone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Q65,
The Evens,
The Five Americans,
Bang On A Can,
The Real Kids,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Sneak,
Audionom,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.