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 Netherlands and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 The Last Poets to the punk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Moebius,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
Aaron Thompson,
Josef K,
John Lydon,
Derrick May,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grauzone,
The Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Idris Muhammad,
China Crisis,
Suicide,
Newcleus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quando Quango,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rufus Thomas,
Television Personalities,
Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Judy Mowatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Q and Not U,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pantaleimon,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crooked Eye,
Circle Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arab on Radar,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
ABBA,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Morten Harket,
Au Pairs,
Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brass Construction,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Dawn Penn,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.