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 Marshall Islands and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Q and Not U to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
Suburban Knight,
Alphaville,
Tim Buckley,
Black Pus,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Royal Trux,
Young Marble Giants,
The Stooges,
Rapeman,
Todd Terry,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Kenny Larkin,
Los Fastidios,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cramps,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mars,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Misunderstood,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
Dark Day,
The Gap Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
Neil Young,
The Slits,
Groovy Waters,
John Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bad Manners,
Rotary Connection,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Janne Schatter,
Section 25,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.