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 Australia and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Freddie Wadling to the grunge 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Erykah Badu,
The Divine Comedy,
Franke,
Junior Murvin,
48th St. Collective,
Soul Sonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Drexciya,
Black Sheep,
New York Dolls,
The Real Kids,
June Days,
John Holt,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gladiators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agitation Free,
New Age Steppers,
Sam Rivers,
The Neon Judgement,
Jacob Miller,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
the Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Eli Mardock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
The Stooges,
Marc Almond,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Flash Fearless,
X-Ray Spex,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Gories,
Slick Rick,
Crooked Eye,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
The Sonics,
Symarip,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cymande,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.