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 United Kingdom and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cymande to the punk 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Happenings,
Jerry's Kids,
Kas Product,
John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
The Count Five,
Circle Jerks,
Joe Finger,
Hoover,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Howard Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Moody Blues,
The Golliwogs,
Index,
Danielle Patucci,
CMW,
The Kinks,
Tom Boy,
The Modern Lovers,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Gong,
The Durutti Column,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Byron Stingily,
Sugar Minott,
Chris Corsano,
Fugazi,
Dave Gahan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Youth Brigade,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
Pantaleimon,
the Association,
Radiopuhelimet,
Subhumans,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.