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 Uruguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skaos,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Angels of Light,
Buzzcocks,
U.S. Maple,
Cheater Slicks,
The Barracudas,
Smog,
Wire,
The Busters,
Ludus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Sneak,
Dennis Brown,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Cluster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Groovy Waters,
48th St. Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
Blake Baxter,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Kinks,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ten City,
Anakelly,
Gong,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
The Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Lightning Bolt,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Niagra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.