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 San Marino and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
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 spring reverb 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 Scrapy to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
the Germs,
Byron Stingily,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fortunes,
This Heat,
Nick Fraelich,
Supertramp,
Buzzcocks,
Ultravox,
Howard Jones,
The Durutti Column,
Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
10cc,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Normal,
The Blackbyrds,
Stetsasonic,
Jacob Miller,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Busters,
Nas,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Mr. Review,
Eddi Front,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
Subhumans,
Icehouse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Aswad,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Youth Brigade,
The Doors,
The Names,
Deadbeat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.