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 Kyrgyzstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Marc Almond,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Prince Buster,
Radiohead,
Glambeats Corp.,
Michelle Simonal,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
Tres Demented,
The Grass Roots,
James White and The Blacks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monochrome Set,
Deadbeat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
Vladislav Delay,
Newcleus,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Toni Rubio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rufus Thomas,
Altered Images,
June Days,
Mandrill,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
Terry Callier,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lindisfarne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
CMW,
Minny Pops,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Gichy Dan,
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.