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 Samoa and from New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Isaac Hayes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
Sound Behaviour,
Harry Pussy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funkadelic,
EPMD,
Fad Gadget,
The Dirtbombs,
Underground Resistance,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
Roxette,
Saccharine Trust,
Livin' Joy,
The Last Poets,
X-102,
Derrick Morgan,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Babytalk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Aloha Tigers,
Mr. Review,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
ABBA,
Brand Nubian,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
the Human League,
Liliput,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
Judy Mowatt,
Das Ding,
Jacob Miller,
Make Up,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
The Sonics,
Bill Wells,
Brick,
Nick Fraelich,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Guru Guru,
The Selecter,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.