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 Malawi and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Sonics to the funk 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The American Breed,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalann,
Zapp,
The Evens,
Charles Mingus,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Prince Buster,
Ohio Players,
Pantytec,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Masters at Work,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
The Litter,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Buckinghams,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
PIL,
Dual Sessions,
FM Einheit,
Danielle Patucci,
Section 25,
David Axelrod,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Freddie Wadling,
E-Dancer,
These Immortal Souls,
Cal Tjader,
Mars,
The Wake,
The Birthday Party,
CMW,
Drexciya,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Massinfluence,
cv313,
New York Dolls,
Black Sheep,
DJ Sneak,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
K-Klass,
Cluster,
Yaz,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.