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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Associates to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
The Victims,
the Association,
Technova,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mission of Burma,
Charles Mingus,
Mars,
Nirvana,
Popol Vuh,
Lyres,
Tres Demented,
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spoonie Gee,
The Offenders,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
Scientists,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Durutti Column,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sixth Finger,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Marc Almond,
Smog,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ituana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
The Gun Club,
Arthur Verocai,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Vogues,
Pylon,
Eli Mardock,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sandy B,
Bob Dylan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra,
Ponytail,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
Ice-T,
Outsiders,
The Invisible,
Radio Birdman,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.