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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Bill Wells to the crunk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Happenings,
Scion,
The Searchers,
Hot Snakes,
Icehouse,
Visage,
Main Source,
Yellowson,
LL Cool J,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dorothy Ashby,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
Funkadelic,
The Slackers,
The Dead C,
Archie Shepp,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
E-Dancer,
Jerry's Kids,
Flipper,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Roy Ayers,
Godley & Creme,
The Black Dice,
Pet Shop Boys,
The J.B.'s,
The Blackbyrds,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Saints,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Japan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
Zero Boys,
Deadbeat,
H. Thieme,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Pagans,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.