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 Portugal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 The Cowsills to the electroclash 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Newcleus,
Television,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
This Heat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Steve Hackett,
Man Parrish,
The Fall,
Gabor Szabo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Inner City,
The Velvet Underground,
Wire,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Half Japanese,
MC5,
China Crisis,
Franke,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
The Beau Brummels,
Silicon Teens,
The Barracudas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brass Construction,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Faust,
The Kinks,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Wyatt,
Brand Nubian,
Black Pus,
the Slits,
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Searchers,
Barry Ungar,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
X-102,
Television Personalities,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.