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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Pussy Galore to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
Aloha Tigers,
Pierre Henry,
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Half Japanese,
Joensuu 1685,
The New Christs,
The Moody Blues,
Carl Craig,
AZ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
Trumans Water,
Arthur Verocai,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Rufus Thomas,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Pagans,
The Walker Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Copeland,
Bronski Beat,
Khruangbin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lyres,
Black Moon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Cal Tjader,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fall,
Matthew Halsall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rhythm & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
Flash Fearless,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Wire,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.