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 States and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dorothy Ashby to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
ABBA,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Neon Judgement,
Derrick Morgan,
Reagan Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Harmonia,
Maleditus Sound,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Quantec,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blake Baxter,
Oneida,
Erasure,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magma,
FM Einheit,
Eden Ahbez,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thompson Twins,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
The Monochrome Set,
Model 500,
H. Thieme,
Little Man,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Amon Düül II,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gories,
The Star Department,
Public Enemy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Mission of Burma,
Ossler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mantronix,
Rapeman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Peter & Gordon,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.