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 Netherlands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Michelle Simonal to the grunge 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pussy Galore,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sonics,
Derrick May,
Main Source,
K-Klass,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
Radio Birdman,
The Misunderstood,
Bluetip,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Wells,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Average White Band,
Al Stewart,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Aaron Thompson,
The American Breed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tom Boy,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pere Ubu,
Danielle Patucci,
The Beau Brummels,
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
China Crisis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scientists,
Girls At Our Best!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shuggie Otis,
L. Decosne,
Cheater Slicks,
Rakim,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Unwound,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
One Last Wish,
Rekid,
Kayak,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.