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 Panama and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Model 500 to the grunge 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Clarke,
Donny Hathaway,
The American Breed,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed,
The Smoke,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Trojans,
Fugazi,
Anthony Braxton,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scrapy,
The Sonics,
Japan,
Essential Logic,
The Count Five,
Excepter,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
Agent Orange,
The Five Americans,
Derrick May,
Dual Sessions,
Masters at Work,
Pole,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Fluxion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Velvet Underground,
Ituana,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Roger Hodgson,
Ohio Players,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
T. Rex,
Eric Dolphy,
Janne Schatter,
Bronski Beat,
Soul II Soul,
Jeff Mills,
Rotary Connection,
The Happenings,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.