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 Qatar and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Blossom Toes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Unwound,
Infiniti,
Brick,
Eric Copeland,
the Soft Cell,
Visage,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dead Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Durutti Column,
Blancmange,
The Grass Roots,
The Selecter,
Lightning Bolt,
Dennis Brown,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Japan,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
Siglo XX,
Sugar Minott,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
LL Cool J,
Soulsonic Force,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Excepter,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
Technova,
Graham Central Station,
DNA,
Heaven 17,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Danielle Patucci,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
R.M.O.,
The Black Dice,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mars,
Soft Machine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang of Four,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Victims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Drexciya,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.