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 Mauritania and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Misunderstood to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Tears for Fears,
These Immortal Souls,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slackers,
Bobby Womack,
Basic Channel,
Ultravox,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Skatalites,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Drexciya,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
The Sound,
The Smiths,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Tres Demented,
Surgeon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
Groovy Waters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vainqueur,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Icehouse,
Jandek,
The Wake,
Pulsallama,
Fugazi,
Jeff Mills,
Blancmange,
Qualms,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Vladislav Delay,
Gong,
Das Ding,
Dawn Penn,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
Negative Approach,
Moebius,
Lucky Dragons,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.