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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the electroclash 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moody Blues,
The Gap Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Stooges,
Judy Mowatt,
Althea and Donna,
The Fuzztones,
The Cramps,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alice Coltrane,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Move,
Isaac Hayes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Model 500,
The J.B.'s,
Ultravox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
Tomorrow,
48th St. Collective,
Flash Fearless,
Cecil Taylor,
Organ,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Section 25,
The Fugs,
Rites of Spring,
Nirvana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Max Romeo,
Chris & Cosey,
Bronski Beat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Main Source,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joy Division,
These Immortal Souls,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alphaville,
The Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Lindisfarne,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.