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 Senegal and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tubeway Army to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Terry Callier,
John Lydon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Buckinghams,
T.S.O.L.,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
The Real Kids,
The Techniques,
Outsiders,
Infiniti,
Bush Tetras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Josef K,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Thompson Twins,
Accadde A,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Talk Talk,
DJ Style,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mantronix,
Pantytec,
Robert Hood,
Fad Gadget,
The Fugs,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Yaz,
Skaos,
Ice-T,
Crooked Eye,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lower 48,
Jawbox,
Audionom,
Leonard Cohen,
Kenny Larkin,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Lyres,
The Fortunes,
The Vogues,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
The Pretty Things,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.