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 Oman and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Janne Schatter to the punk 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cure,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Quadrant,
cv313,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
Mars,
Warsaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Smog,
Y Pants,
Dark Day,
Agitation Free,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Zapp,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
The Remains,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
Bush Tetras,
Pole,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Radiohead,
Crooked Eye,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Style,
Tres Demented,
X-101,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
Cymande,
The Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantytec,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.