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 Zimbabwe and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Livin' Joy to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quadrant,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Goldenarms,
Procol Harum,
Rotary Connection,
Qualms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalann,
DJ Sneak,
Depeche Mode,
Intrusion,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Stooges,
The Names,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Scrapy,
Sun City Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Skaos,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
Girls At Our Best!,
H. Thieme,
Excepter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
Piero Umiliani,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Animal Collective,
The Litter,
Liliput,
Supertramp,
The Sound,
Guru Guru,
Lower 48,
Adolescents,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monochrome Set,
Mandrill,
Lakeside,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.