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 Qatar and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 The Red Krayola 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Near,
DJ Style,
Animal Collective,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mr. Review,
Warren Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Freddie Wadling,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wire,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Bourne,
Steve Hackett,
Unrelated Segments,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aural Exciters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sarah Menescal,
Fatback Band,
Television,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harry Pussy,
Thee Headcoats,
Warsaw,
Vainqueur,
T.S.O.L.,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker,
Soft Machine,
OOIOO,
KRS-One,
John Holt,
the Swans,
Icehouse,
Godley & Creme,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
The Pretty Things,
Circle Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oblivians,
Kaleidoscope,
Jandek,
Lower 48,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.