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 Liberia and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lalo Schifrin to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
New York Dolls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
B.T. Express,
Yazoo,
Sight & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Black Moon,
The Martian,
Pagans,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Piero Umiliani,
The Real Kids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne,
the Germs,
The Human League,
Whodini,
Eden Ahbez,
Basic Channel,
Procol Harum,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Young Rascals,
Josef K,
Lakeside,
David Bowie,
X-101,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boredoms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Connie Case,
Blancmange,
Eric Copeland,
John Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
Wings,
Bobby Womack,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.