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 Zambia and from Manila.
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 Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rites of Spring to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Black Pus,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
The Barracudas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Sparks,
Basic Channel,
Gang Gang Dance,
The American Breed,
The Cure,
David Bowie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Judy Mowatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Neon Judgement,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Cale,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
Flipper,
Audionom,
Infiniti,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Sarah Menescal,
Cheater Slicks,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quando Quango,
Hoover,
Jandek,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
Jeff Mills,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
Duran Duran,
Amon Düül II,
Minny Pops,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.