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 Mauritius and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Livin' Joy,
Wolf Eyes,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
The Neon Judgement,
Can,
T. Rex,
Mantronix,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
Warsaw,
Moebius,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crash Course in Science,
Radiohead,
The United States of America,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ralphi Rosario,
Trumans Water,
Skarface,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Half Japanese,
The Dirtbombs,
Interpol,
Magma,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
Vladislav Delay,
Erasure,
Audionom,
Glambeats Corp.,
Urselle,
Schoolly D,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Music Machine,
D'Angelo,
Duran Duran,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.