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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the rap 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hoover,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
The Durutti Column,
The New Christs,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Eli Mardock,
The Last Poets,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chrome,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
X-102,
Visage,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Standells,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
Kayak,
Black Bananas,
The Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Evens,
Tomorrow,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Matthew Halsall,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gladiators,
Lalann,
Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Babytalk,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.