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 Hungary and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gun Club to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Remains,
Popol Vuh,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Standells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oneida,
the Slits,
The Happenings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Flag,
Nils Olav,
Harry Pussy,
Ronan,
The Tremeloes,
R.M.O.,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
The Human League,
DJ Style,
Lyres,
Can,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
Cybotron,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
PIL,
MC5,
Smog,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ornette Coleman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Banda Bassotti,
the Bar-Kays,
Panda Bear,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Dark Day,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wire,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
Intrusion,
MDC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
The Gladiators,
Niagra,
Fear,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.