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 Zambia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Fugs to the grime 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
The Index,
Boz Scaggs,
La Düsseldorf,
Thompson Twins,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Alton Ellis,
Unrelated Segments,
Procol Harum,
Todd Rundgren,
Shuggie Otis,
Mo-Dettes,
David McCallum,
Unwound,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Sugar Minott,
The Gap Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Marvin Gaye,
The Kinks,
48th St. Collective,
PIL,
Minny Pops,
Groovy Waters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Nico,
the Sonics,
R.M.O.,
Howard Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Delta 5,
Soulsonic Force,
One Last Wish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dual Sessions,
Y Pants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fuzztones,
The Human League,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chrome,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bizarre Inc.,
F. McDonald,
Chris & Cosey,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Black Bananas,
Mr. Review,
Panda Bear,
The Cowsills,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.