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 South Africa 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rock 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The American Breed,
The Litter,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
The Mummies,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Sneak,
Rod Modell,
Bill Near,
Newcleus,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Lydon,
Maleditus Sound,
Jawbox,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick May,
Rapeman,
The Fugs,
PIL,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Glenn Branca,
Essential Logic,
Agitation Free,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
kango's stein massive,
The New Christs,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Star Department,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nas,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Mills,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.