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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doors,
The Buckinghams,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joey Negro,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Pagans,
the Association,
Laurel Aitken,
Morten Harket,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun City Girls,
Henry Cow,
The Standells,
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-102,
Warsaw,
D'Angelo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Real Kids,
Fela Kuti,
The Beau Brummels,
The Divine Comedy,
Infiniti,
Subhumans,
The Searchers,
The Blackbyrds,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry's Kids,
Minny Pops,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thompson Twins,
Index,
Hardrive,
Bob Dylan,
Y Pants,
The Happenings,
Scan 7,
Blake Baxter,
the Normal,
Jeff Lynne,
Fluxion,
Kurtis Blow,
Deadbeat,
Black Sheep,
Tim Buckley,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.