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 Croatia and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Seeds,
Q65,
Joy Division,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Black Pus,
Metal Thangz,
Public Image Ltd.,
Josef K,
Barry Ungar,
Throbbing Gristle,
Duran Duran,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mantronix,
Bobby Sherman,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eddi Front,
In Retrospect,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
D'Angelo,
Cheater Slicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques,
X-101,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Copeland,
Groovy Waters,
Smog,
Freddie Wadling,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Danielle Patucci,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
CMW,
The Knickerbockers,
The Detroit Cobras,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Adolescents,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.