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 Tonga and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Pussy Galore,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Wally Richardson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Moebius,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
MC5,
Swell Maps,
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
Japan,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
The Real Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker,
Sex Pistols,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Suicide,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
B.T. Express,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pop Group,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
The Residents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
The Fortunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
X-102,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Maurizio,
Ice-T,
Jeff Mills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.