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 Fiji and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sisters of Mercy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Eve St. Jones,
DNA,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
In Retrospect,
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
The J.B.'s,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Groovy Waters,
Suicide,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sight & Sound,
Technova,
June of 44,
Jeff Lynne,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Fatback Band,
E-Dancer,
Archie Shepp,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Motorama,
CMW,
The Electric Prunes,
Average White Band,
June Days,
R.M.O.,
The New Christs,
The Durutti Column,
Judy Mowatt,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Maurizio,
U.S. Maple,
Massinfluence,
the Association,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Rapeman,
Newcleus,
Joey Negro,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.