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 Togo and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Doors 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Talk Talk,
Soft Machine,
The Star Department,
10cc,
ABC,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
cv313,
The Flesh Eaters,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke,
Patti Smith,
Second Layer,
Marmalade,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
PIL,
Crooked Eye,
Harry Pussy,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
The Moleskins,
Roy Ayers,
Al Stewart,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
Jandek,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lyres,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
The Wake,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Fraelich,
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
Fela Kuti,
The Evens,
Agent Orange,
The Music Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nils Olav,
John Lydon,
Royal Trux,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Buzzcocks,
Monks,
Joey Negro,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Barbara Tucker,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.