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 Papua New Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
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 theremin 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 Neon Judgement 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Marvin Gaye,
Smog,
Guru Guru,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Average White Band,
Amon Düül II,
Carl Craig,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Searchers,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Rites of Spring,
Talk Talk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Delta 5,
The Real Kids,
Soft Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
The Victims,
The Leaves,
Junior Murvin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thee Headcoats,
The Techniques,
Eric Dolphy,
10cc,
Barclay James Harvest,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
The Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Althea and Donna,
Pylon,
Jerry's Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Rufus Thomas,
Mission of Burma,
Los Fastidios,
Susan Cadogan,
Judy Mowatt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The J.B.'s,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pussy Galore,
Essential Logic,
The New Christs,
Warsaw,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.