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 Milan.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ossler to the electroclash 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Brick,
Aswad,
Arcadia,
Thee Headcoats,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott Heron,
Max Romeo,
Nick Fraelich,
Lindisfarne,
Ronan,
the Association,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
PIL,
Electric Prunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers,
Lower 48,
Mars,
Kenny Larkin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Holt,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
Janne Schatter,
Ossler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Todd Terry,
Loose Ends,
Eurythmics,
Arab on Radar,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
DJ Style,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cymande,
U.S. Maple,
Guru Guru,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.