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 Laos and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 R.M.O. to the punk 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fugazi,
Desert Stars,
Neil Young,
Vladislav Delay,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Smiths,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eve St. Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Tres Demented,
Davy DMX,
The Zeros,
Ponytail,
Terry Callier,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Bananas,
The United States of America,
The Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang Green,
Arthur Verocai,
Make Up,
Susan Cadogan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
H. Thieme,
Crash Course in Science,
Skriet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jawbox,
Underground Resistance,
John Foxx,
The Gap Band,
Easy Going,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lakeside,
Index,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
Drexciya,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
OOIOO,
Mo-Dettes,
Aural Exciters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
Cybotron,
Barry Ungar,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Stooges,
Theoretical Girls,
the Soft Cell,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.