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 Equatorial Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Litter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
La Düsseldorf,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quando Quango,
Eric Copeland,
Henry Cow,
The Evens,
Circle Jerks,
Siglo XX,
Marmalade,
Pagans,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
Fat Boys,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Charles Mingus,
World's Most,
Nik Kershaw,
Nils Olav,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sam Rivers,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Negative Approach,
Rapeman,
X-Ray Spex,
Cybotron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lindisfarne,
Agent Orange,
Skarface,
Main Source,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scratch Acid,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Names,
The Dead C,
Royal Trux,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.