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 Oman and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Peter & Gordon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Funkadelic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Deadbeat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nas,
The Fall,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Groovy Waters,
Skarface,
Black Moon,
Agitation Free,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
In Retrospect,
Interpol,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
Fluxion,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Machine,
The Remains,
Rotary Connection,
Q and Not U,
Frankie Knuckles,
Royal Trux,
Lyres,
Sparks,
ABBA,
Mad Mike,
10cc,
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Fatback Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spoonie Gee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grey Daturas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Alice Coltrane,
Talk Talk,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.