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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Janne Schatter,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Popol Vuh,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
Alton Ellis,
Grauzone,
Guru Guru,
John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
The Techniques,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Busters,
Rotary Connection,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
Interpol,
Steve Hackett,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DNA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oblivians,
Jeff Mills,
Rites of Spring,
Television Personalities,
Wasted Youth,
In Retrospect,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
Bob Dylan,
The Pop Group,
Heaven 17,
Arthur Verocai,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Index,
Average White Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
E-Dancer,
Max Romeo,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.