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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the punk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skriet,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Eli Mardock,
The Monochrome Set,
The Pop Group,
The Blackbyrds,
Wally Richardson,
Rekid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Franke,
Aural Exciters,
Al Stewart,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Letta Mbulu,
Magazine,
Fatback Band,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Pulsallama,
Sonny Sharrock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-102,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lucky Dragons,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
New Order,
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Ice-T,
Desert Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
This Heat,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Glenn Branca,
Joensuu 1685,
Eden Ahbez,
Scan 7,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
B.T. Express,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.