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 Kuwait 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dead C to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mad Mike,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brass Construction,
Ponytail,
Theoretical Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
Cymande,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
Kas Product,
Franke,
Black Pus,
The Mummies,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
Wings,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Warren Ellis,
The United States of America,
ABC,
Public Image Ltd.,
Connie Case,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scan 7,
Infiniti,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deakin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
Main Source,
Malaria!,
The Fall,
Don Cherry,
Erykah Badu,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.