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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fad Gadget to the electroclash 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faraquet,
Brick,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joey Negro,
Moss Icon,
The Gun Club,
Deakin,
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
Royal Trux,
Barbara Tucker,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sound Behaviour,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sandy B,
The Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Livin' Joy,
Pole,
Basic Channel,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
Crash Course in Science,
Suburban Knight,
the Germs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brass Construction,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blues Magoos,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Techniques,
Surgeon,
Susan Cadogan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Nirvana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terry Callier,
Jerry Gold Smith,
UT,
Gong,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
Public Enemy,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.