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 Paraguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Amazonics,
La Düsseldorf,
The Five Americans,
John Holt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Swans,
X-102,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ituana,
Stetsasonic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
The Gap Band,
John Cale,
Althea and Donna,
Skaos,
Deadbeat,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slits,
Wings,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Young Rascals,
Negative Approach,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
The Buckinghams,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy Collins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The United States of America,
Lou Christie,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
Rosa Yemen,
X-Ray Spex,
June of 44,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Interpol,
Sixth Finger,
Maleditus Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Durutti Column,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eli Mardock,
The Leaves,
Todd Rundgren,
The American Breed,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.