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 Denmark and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Neu! to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gun Club,
Brick,
H. Thieme,
Bush Tetras,
Q and Not U,
Half Japanese,
Pantytec,
Warsaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
Los Fastidios,
David Bowie,
Aural Exciters,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Cell,
Hardrive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
The Invisible,
Warren Ellis,
Brass Construction,
Darondo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacob Miller,
Porter Ricks,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Radiopuhelimet,
Graham Central Station,
FM Einheit,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Beau Brummels,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fuzztones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
China Crisis,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mark Hollis,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.