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 Cyprus and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 Dirtbombs to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Brass Construction,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Quadrant,
Ituana,
Lyres,
Suicide,
James White and The Blacks,
the Sonics,
Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
World's Most,
Magazine,
Yusef Lateef,
the Normal,
The Busters,
Robert Wyatt,
the Germs,
Pantytec,
Easy Going,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Pagans,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Althea and Donna,
The Fortunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Shoche,
Amon Düül II,
Sex Pistols,
Guru Guru,
Reuben Wilson,
Altered Images,
Robert Hood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Ken Boothe,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
Gang of Four,
Agent Orange,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
Anakelly,
The Fall,
Peter and Kerry,
The Residents,
Stiv Bators,
Scientists,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.