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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Germs to the dance 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Das Ding,
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
The Techniques,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
Visage,
Suburban Knight,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skaos,
Depeche Mode,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Todd Rundgren,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
Los Fastidios,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Toni Rubio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Moon,
Sight & Sound,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
Minny Pops,
Rapeman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Monolake,
K-Klass,
These Immortal Souls,
Steve Hackett,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boredoms,
Rekid,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Copeland,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Ituana,
Chris & Cosey,
Scan 7,
Negative Approach,
Mark Hollis,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.