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 Turkey and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cure to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Jacob Miller,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Aaron Thompson,
Scott Walker,
The Doobie Brothers,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
Jacques Brel,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Kurtis Blow,
Oneida,
Moss Icon,
Urselle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Christie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joy Division,
Lungfish,
Joey Negro,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Near,
Marvin Gaye,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
Icehouse,
Jandek,
The Cowsills,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Al Stewart,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Yellowson,
Josef K,
Arab on Radar,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eurythmics,
Quadrant,
Yusef Lateef,
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
Scan 7,
The Remains,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.