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 Australia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Glambeats Corp. to the jazz 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drexciya,
Bush Tetras,
Los Fastidios,
Oblivians,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Joyce Sims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dual Sessions,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Minutemen,
The Moleskins,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Almond,
The Misunderstood,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
Mad Mike,
Second Layer,
Lightning Bolt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
Shuggie Otis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Young Marble Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Television,
The Names,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
La Düsseldorf,
Flipper,
The Smoke,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The American Breed,
Zapp,
The Fugs,
Maurizio,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Smooth,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Kurtis Blow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Happenings,
Joy Division,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.