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 Vietnam and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Steve Hackett to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
PIL,
Easy Going,
Scrapy,
Intrusion,
Los Fastidios,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T.S.O.L.,
The Moleskins,
Blake Baxter,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
Simply Red,
Gang of Four,
Porter Ricks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hasil Adkins,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
Slick Rick,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Funkadelic,
The Gun Club,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Patti Smith,
The Five Americans,
48th St. Collective,
Scan 7,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.