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 Czech Republic and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dorothy Ashby to the dance 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Blancmange,
Fear,
Massinfluence,
Franke,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Almond,
Soft Cell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tomorrow,
Minny Pops,
Judy Mowatt,
The Trojans,
Silicon Teens,
Lungfish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grauzone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Half Japanese,
Joe Finger,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
Eric Dolphy,
a-ha,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Alton Ellis,
Symarip,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kas Product,
Eric Copeland,
Barry Ungar,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Whodini,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pere Ubu,
The Beau Brummels,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Qualms,
Crime,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
Angry Samoans,
Mo-Dettes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slackers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.