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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Agent Orange to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Stiv Bators,
Adolescents,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
One Last Wish,
Tears for Fears,
Wasted Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
The Pop Group,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Parrish,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gories,
Boredoms,
Cecil Taylor,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T. Rex,
Newcleus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blancmange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
PIL,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
Howard Jones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Warren Ellis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Shuggie Otis,
Lyres,
Silicon Teens,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Gastr Del Sol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Lucky Dragons,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David McCallum,
Sonic Youth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.