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 Finland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Hong Kong and Houston.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Judy Mowatt to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Selecter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Goldenarms,
The Smoke,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
EPMD,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Terry,
Liliput,
Alice Coltrane,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
Bauhaus,
Dave Gahan,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
Gang of Four,
Altered Images,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fall,
Kerri Chandler,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cowsills,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Tremeloes,
Moebius,
Pylon,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
Section 25,
Leonard Cohen,
Buzzcocks,
The Wake,
The Litter,
Connie Case,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Donald Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
Delta 5,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Zeros,
Swans,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.