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 Guyana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 The Moody Blues to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
K-Klass,
MDC,
The Cramps,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marine Girls,
Swell Maps,
The Velvet Underground,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gladiators,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Young Rascals,
John Coltrane,
The Wake,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Invisible,
The Remains,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
The Divine Comedy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Con Funk Shun,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stiv Bators,
Little Man,
Sex Pistols,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Goldenarms,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fugs,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deadbeat,
Maleditus Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Brick,
Babytalk,
Eric Dolphy,
Absolute Body Control,
Lebanon Hanover,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Soft Cell,
Moss Icon,
The Leaves,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
LL Cool J,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.