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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Symarip to the electroclash 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Freddie Wadling,
Ornette Coleman,
Mars,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Skarface,
Graham Central Station,
Cheater Slicks,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
Main Source,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Altered Images,
Lightning Bolt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronnie Foster,
The Selecter,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantaleimon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama,
Gang Starr,
Magma,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
Pagans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Eddi Front,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Youth Brigade,
Arab on Radar,
Ultra Naté,
Fluxion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harmonia,
X-101,
Arthur Verocai,
Joy Division,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow,
Motorama,
Donald Byrd,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.