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 Macedonia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Suburban Knight to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fall,
OOIOO,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Eve St. Jones,
The Busters,
Marine Girls,
Al Stewart,
Todd Terry,
David McCallum,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
Jandek,
the Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Banda Bassotti,
JFA,
Bauhaus,
Outsiders,
Donald Byrd,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Vainqueur,
Liliput,
Faust,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
Arab on Radar,
The Litter,
Monolake,
Nirvana,
The Trojans,
Slave,
Black Moon,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Morten Harket,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Prunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Kayak,
Magma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yazoo,
John Foxx,
Lungfish,
Blake Baxter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.