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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 The Wake to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Moby Grape,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Christie,
Kenny Larkin,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
Hashim,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masters at Work,
T.S.O.L.,
Warsaw,
Severed Heads,
New York Dolls,
Tim Buckley,
B.T. Express,
Sugar Minott,
The Music Machine,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Todd Rundgren,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hardrive,
Mr. Review,
Little Man,
John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pere Ubu,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Crash Course in Science,
Guru Guru,
The Mummies,
Zero Boys,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ludus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.