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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 The Motions to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Malaria!,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
D'Angelo,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
John Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed,
Yaz,
Franke,
Suburban Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pussy Galore,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arcadia,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Quando Quango,
One Last Wish,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
Whodini,
Youth Brigade,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
The Vogues,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Duran Duran,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Bar-Kays,
Slick Rick,
Pantytec,
Rites of Spring,
FM Einheit,
Intrusion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nas,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
Excepter,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.