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 Sierra Leone and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Main Source to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott Heron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Christie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
kango's stein massive,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
X-102,
Loose Ends,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stockholm Monsters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Eve St. Jones,
The United States of America,
June Days,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
The Blues Magoos,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scratch Acid,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Sexual Harrassment,
JFA,
John Lydon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacob Miller,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
Jeff Mills,
One Last Wish,
Saccharine Trust,
Fluxion,
Scion,
The Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.