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 Madrid.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joe Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fortunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
The Mojo Men,
OOIOO,
Marine Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Invisible,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
CMW,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sparks,
Tommy Roe,
Anthony Braxton,
Easy Going,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Deadbeat,
Mo-Dettes,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Mars,
The Skatalites,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fela Kuti,
Lucky Dragons,
Byron Stingily,
The Associates,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Section 25,
It's A Beautiful Day,
LL Cool J,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
The American Breed,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Graham Central Station,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.