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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 The Gun Club to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mummies,
Depeche Mode,
Yaz,
Bobby Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
Newcleus,
Gichy Dan,
the Sonics,
Marc Almond,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Velvet Underground,
Minnie Riperton,
Von Mondo,
MC5,
Gang of Four,
Be Bop Deluxe,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Isaac Hayes,
Michelle Simonal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Half Japanese,
The Move,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
Letta Mbulu,
Radiohead,
Man Eating Sloth,
Schoolly D,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
Unwound,
PIL,
Q and Not U,
Pylon,
Intrusion,
Chrome,
Malaria!,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.