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 Portland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Mark Hollis to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Todd Rundgren,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bauhaus,
Scientists,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
The Tremeloes,
The Associates,
The Pretty Things,
Crash Course in Science,
MDC,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Starr,
Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
Aaron Thompson,
Sister Nancy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Black Bananas,
Monolake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Laurel Aitken,
Suicide,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Outsiders,
Desert Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fortunes,
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
The Happenings,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Derrick May,
Gong,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
E-Dancer,
Pussy Galore,
The J.B.'s,
Anakelly,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television,
Mandrill,
Q and Not U,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Bluetip,
La Düsseldorf,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.