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 Saudi Arabia and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Absolute Body Control to the grunge 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Oblivians,
KRS-One,
Aaron Thompson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep,
The Invisible,
Wings,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
Pet Shop Boys,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Searchers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Anakelly,
The Victims,
Johnny Osbourne,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Liliput,
The Blues Magoos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Archie Shepp,
Marine Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minor Threat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalann,
Magma,
Urselle,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
Royal Trux,
Mr. Review,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.