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 San Marino and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Faraquet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Juan Atkins,
Livin' Joy,
LL Cool J,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
The Gories,
Motorama,
Interpol,
Barry Ungar,
Mars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Nirvana,
Stiv Bators,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Tremeloes,
Barrington Levy,
Simply Red,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Toni Rubio,
Babytalk,
The Move,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harry Pussy,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Association,
Tim Buckley,
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Camouflage,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alton Ellis,
Animal Collective,
Connie Case,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Audionom,
Don Cherry,
The American Breed,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Prince Buster,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ken Boothe,
Kayak,
New Order,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.