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 Switzerland and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 U.S. Maple to the disco 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
Hasil Adkins,
Brick,
Deepchord,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erasure,
Pole,
Pylon,
kango's stein massive,
Joyce Sims,
EPMD,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
the Soft Cell,
The Kinks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moss Icon,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronnie Foster,
Loose Ends,
The Moleskins,
Hardrive,
Metal Thangz,
Unwound,
Spoonie Gee,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
T. Rex,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alton Ellis,
Thee Headcoats,
Quando Quango,
Blancmange,
Monolake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joey Negro,
This Heat,
Goldenarms,
Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
The Index,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.