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 Korea South and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Selector Dub Narcotic 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ten City,
48th St. Collective,
the Human League,
Eric Copeland,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
Hoover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crooked Eye,
Outsiders,
Hasil Adkins,
Scientists,
R.M.O.,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps,
Crime,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
Josef K,
John Coltrane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Buzzcocks,
The Misunderstood,
the Sonics,
Alphaville,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
Radiohead,
New York Dolls,
Negative Approach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Adolescents,
Bob Dylan,
Pylon,
Altered Images,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Essential Logic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Franke,
Magazine,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Parrish,
Nirvana,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.