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 Lebanon and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Schoolly D to the disco 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cheater Slicks,
The Evens,
Pere Ubu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sister Nancy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Basic Channel,
This Heat,
DJ Sneak,
John Holt,
Essential Logic,
Jandek,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cecil Taylor,
Harry Pussy,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
Prince Buster,
D'Angelo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
The Skatalites,
ABBA,
The Young Rascals,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
The Wake,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra,
Soul II Soul,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tomorrow,
Metal Thangz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Flipper,
Frankie Knuckles,
Desert Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Radiohead,
Main Source,
Section 25,
Goldenarms,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Style,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.