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 Samoa and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultravox to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mark Hollis,
ABBA,
Trumans Water,
Bauhaus,
Janne Schatter,
The Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aloha Tigers,
Albert Ayler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Moebius,
PIL,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
kango's stein massive,
Minnie Riperton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cramps,
CMW,
Bill Near,
Marvin Gaye,
Young Marble Giants,
Amon Düül II,
Black Flag,
Outsiders,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Amon Düül,
The Move,
Soulsonic Force,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Andrew Hill,
Altered Images,
Kayak,
Agent Orange,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Buzzcocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.