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 Qatar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Searchers,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Görl,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Junior Murvin,
Kaleidoscope,
Zero Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Alison Limerick,
The Misunderstood,
Leonard Cohen,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Carl Craig,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camberwell Now,
Quando Quango,
Kayak,
Alphaville,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Red Krayola,
Quadrant,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
Stereo Dub,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sällskapet,
PIL,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Steve Hackett,
The Monochrome Set,
Fort Wilson Riot,
CMW,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Germs,
the Normal,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.