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 United Kingdom and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
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 sitar 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 Pylon to the rock 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Wings,
Johnny Clarke,
Aswad,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Music Machine,
Scrapy,
Lucky Dragons,
Liliput,
Neu!,
Unwound,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
The Divine Comedy,
OOIOO,
Faraquet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Young Rascals,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Fear,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Metal Thangz,
Tim Buckley,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Hoover,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry Gold Smith,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare,
Minny Pops,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
The Vogues,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Adolescents,
Dead Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Severed Heads,
Sister Nancy,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Television Personalities,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.