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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grass Roots to the disco 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Residents,
The Remains,
Barbara Tucker,
MDC,
Roxette,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Sonny Sharrock,
The New Christs,
Pierre Henry,
Archie Shepp,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Swans,
The Searchers,
Nils Olav,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Bar-Kays,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
Negative Approach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Zeros,
Mission of Burma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tommy Roe,
H. Thieme,
Wasted Youth,
Dawn Penn,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visage,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Fluxion,
Television,
Angry Samoans,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
Barrington Levy,
Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Japan,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.