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 Slovakia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Lee Hazlewood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Morten Harket,
Maurizio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dennis Brown,
Bad Manners,
The Music Machine,
Sparks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fugs,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slave,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Sheep,
The Leaves,
Tubeway Army,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
New Order,
Alton Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pop Group,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Skatalites,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Eric Copeland,
Procol Harum,
Donald Byrd,
Half Japanese,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick May,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
June Days,
Electric Prunes,
Camberwell Now,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Loose Ends,
The Motions,
Babytalk,
The Buckinghams,
The Dead C,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.