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 Taiwan and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Rufus Thomas to the grime 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Fluxion,
Letta Mbulu,
Scientists,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Almond,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
Unwound,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cheater Slicks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fire Engines,
Deepchord,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul II Soul,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Malaria!,
EPMD,
The Sonics,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
David Bowie,
Monks,
The Victims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nils Olav,
The J.B.'s,
Yusef Lateef,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
The Motions,
Von Mondo,
Todd Terry,
Mission of Burma,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Searchers,
the Germs,
Gabor Szabo,
Toni Rubio,
Alison Limerick,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Names,
John Holt,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.