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 East Timor and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Tommy Roe,
Ultravox,
The Star Department,
Q65,
Sugar Minott,
Crispy Ambulance,
Albert Ayler,
The Gap Band,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
Gang Starr,
Gang of Four,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Residents,
Essential Logic,
Nirvana,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
Ronan,
The Neon Judgement,
Charles Mingus,
cv313,
The Martian,
Shoche,
a-ha,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
D'Angelo,
The Happenings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Halsall,
Steve Hackett,
The Skatalites,
The J.B.'s,
Boogie Down Productions,
These Immortal Souls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Guru Guru,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
The Vogues,
Fear,
FM Einheit,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Chrome,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.