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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Severed Heads to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Eric Copeland,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Connie Case,
The Birthday Party,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mummies,
Negative Approach,
Lebanon Hanover,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Average White Band,
DNA,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sun City Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Toni Rubio,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
R.M.O.,
Charles Mingus,
Joey Negro,
Bob Dylan,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
Eric Dolphy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monks,
The Five Americans,
Stetsasonic,
Matthew Bourne,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young,
Nils Olav,
X-Ray Spex,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
World's Most,
Bizarre Inc.,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
John Coltrane,
Massinfluence,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Busters,
Newcleus,
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.