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 Ghana and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 the Soft Cell to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
Lee Hazlewood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-102,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doors,
Unwound,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lebanon Hanover,
Freddie Wadling,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
The Names,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Motorama,
The Index,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
Yaz,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Lyres,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gichy Dan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.