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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Real Kids to the electroclash 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Lydon,
Zero Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scott Walker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Stooges,
Mo-Dettes,
Arcadia,
These Immortal Souls,
John Cale,
Neil Young,
Soulsonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Byron Stingily,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Reuben Wilson,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Anthony Braxton,
Magma,
Average White Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Pole,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Y Pants,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
The Trojans,
Funky Four + One,
Audionom,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
the Soft Cell,
La Düsseldorf,
Section 25,
Mandrill,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.