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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Residents to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Saints,
EPMD,
Mars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Massinfluence,
Soft Cell,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yazoo,
Sixth Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantaleimon,
Television Personalities,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eve St. Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Walker Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra,
MC5,
Kas Product,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Silicon Teens,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kayak,
Tears for Fears,
Aswad,
Scientists,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
Q65,
Sandy B,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Pus,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Darondo,
Deepchord,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
Janne Schatter,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Litter,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Slave,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.