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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Thee Headcoats to the disco 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
Au Pairs,
Radiohead,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Holt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
Adolescents,
Jandek,
Lungfish,
Nils Olav,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warren Ellis,
Crime,
This Heat,
Popol Vuh,
cv313,
The Saints,
Pulsallama,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Enemy,
Inner City,
a-ha,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mars,
Scan 7,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
Pere Ubu,
Jawbox,
Camberwell Now,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed,
John Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quadrant,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Five Americans,
the Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hasil Adkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.