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 Andorra and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Bob Dylan,
Gichy Dan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
The Busters,
Bootsy Collins,
Prince Buster,
Hashim,
Matthew Bourne,
The Durutti Column,
A Certain Ratio,
Procol Harum,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
London Community Gospel Choir,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Davy DMX,
Kayak,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mojo Men,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultra Naté,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Wake,
L. Decosne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Infiniti,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
The Pretty Things,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
The Invisible,
Ossler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Metal Thangz,
Slick Rick,
Alice Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Barracudas,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.