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 Japan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Buckinghams to the electroclash 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
The Monochrome Set,
John Lydon,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Amon Düül II,
The Cramps,
Alison Limerick,
Royal Trux,
Television,
Warsaw,
Silicon Teens,
The Tremeloes,
Clear Light,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Neil Young,
Carl Craig,
Eve St. Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Throbbing Gristle,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
F. McDonald,
The Happenings,
Isaac Hayes,
Youth Brigade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
cv313,
Bush Tetras,
The Remains,
The Raincoats,
Intrusion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slick Rick,
Chris & Cosey,
John Holt,
Siglo XX,
Babytalk,
Cal Tjader,
Ultravox,
Mars,
Fugazi,
Whodini,
The Toasters,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
Letta Mbulu,
Quantec,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
The Grass Roots,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aaron Thompson,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.