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 New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 June Days to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Gregory Isaacs,
FM Einheit,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scratch Acid,
Deakin,
Easy Going,
John Coltrane,
The Invisible,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kenny Larkin,
The Seeds,
Sparks,
Quando Quango,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
Boredoms,
Vainqueur,
Cecil Taylor,
Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Near,
The Vogues,
Simply Red,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
Curtis Mayfield,
Surgeon,
Grauzone,
Black Bananas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Newcleus,
Idris Muhammad,
Icehouse,
The Smoke,
Howard Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Severed Heads,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
Dawn Penn,
Lakeside,
June Days,
The Dave Clark Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Goldenarms,
Deepchord,
Stockholm Monsters,
World's Most,
The Monochrome Set,
David Bowie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skriet,
Lower 48,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.