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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Cluster to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 Last Poets 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?
Tropical Tobacco,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
The Five Americans,
Minny Pops,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
The Divine Comedy,
Second Layer,
Pierre Henry,
Panda Bear,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scratch Acid,
Absolute Body Control,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joe Finger,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Sandy B,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
Pantaleimon,
Scan 7,
the Sonics,
Ronan,
The Kinks,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalann,
Au Pairs,
MDC,
UT,
The Pretty Things,
This Heat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joe Smooth,
Alice Coltrane,
Ten City,
Wire,
June Days,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
Scientists,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.