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 Moldova and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba 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 Bootsy Collins to the electroclash 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Smog,
The Young Rascals,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yaz,
The Martian,
Freddie Wadling,
E-Dancer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crime,
Cybotron,
The Gap Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Simply Red,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Inner City,
Tom Boy,
cv313,
Magma,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
The Names,
Roxette,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris & Cosey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ken Boothe,
The Mummies,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultimate Spinach,
Gong,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Nas,
Scion,
Suicide,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Dave Gahan,
Sex Pistols,
Spandau Ballet,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Dolphy,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.