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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
In Retrospect,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crooked Eye,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eurythmics,
The Pretty Things,
Model 500,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swell Maps,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders,
Desert Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
AZ,
Royal Trux,
The Real Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
Morten Harket,
The Fuzztones,
Black Flag,
Symarip,
Fear,
The New Christs,
Scientists,
The Mojo Men,
This Heat,
David McCallum,
The Angels of Light,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Charles Mingus,
Average White Band,
Maleditus Sound,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
Radio Birdman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ken Boothe,
Supertramp,
The Walker Brothers,
The Selecter,
David Axelrod,
Essential Logic,
the Human League,
Steve Hackett,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neu!,
Can,
MDC,
Liliput,
The Index,
Toni Rubio,
Rakim,
Dead Boys,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.