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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Magma,
The Buckinghams,
Alison Limerick,
The Selecter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Audionom,
Oneida,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cal Tjader,
The J.B.'s,
kango's stein massive,
Absolute Body Control,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
Aural Exciters,
The Barracudas,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Archie Shepp,
Wolf Eyes,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats,
Technova,
Faust,
Minutemen,
Matthew Bourne,
Al Stewart,
Spandau Ballet,
Lungfish,
Surgeon,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Average White Band,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Yazoo,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Delon & Dalcan,
Visage,
Mary Jane Girls,
Accadde A,
Second Layer,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.