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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Toni Rubio to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Sällskapet,
John Foxx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aaron Thompson,
Camouflage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pop Group,
Scratch Acid,
The Victims,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Grass Roots,
The Knickerbockers,
Alice Coltrane,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
Morten Harket,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Moby Grape,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Gregory Isaacs,
Unrelated Segments,
Cluster,
Pierre Henry,
Magazine,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tomorrow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
Barrington Levy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Pole,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes,
Mandrill,
The Last Poets,
Wire,
Visage,
Lower 48,
Lucky Dragons,
Ronan,
Erasure,
Gang of Four,
Massinfluence,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.