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 Ukraine and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Parry Music to the grime 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radio Birdman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bauhaus,
Ornette Coleman,
Y Pants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Youth Brigade,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
Half Japanese,
Flash Fearless,
Surgeon,
Boredoms,
Nas,
Bobby Womack,
Maleditus Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Ludus,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
K-Klass,
Rites of Spring,
Reuben Wilson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gun Club,
Lakeside,
Janne Schatter,
Judy Mowatt,
Excepter,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
ABC,
Aswad,
Nick Fraelich,
David Axelrod,
PIL,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Parrish,
Can,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Moss Icon,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.