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 China and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eurythmics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Alphaville,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
Agent Orange,
Ludus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scan 7,
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
Scrapy,
Black Sheep,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Fat Boys,
Khruangbin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
Ohio Players,
Moebius,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Camberwell Now,
Monolake,
ABC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
Dark Day,
Panda Bear,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Thee Headcoats,
Make Up,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Ossler,
Judy Mowatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
Ituana,
Los Fastidios,
Hardrive,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantytec,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
The Invisible,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.