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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 Joe Finger to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q65,
Roxette,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Swans,
Ten City,
Reagan Youth,
The Sonics,
Maleditus Sound,
Make Up,
In Retrospect,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
The Searchers,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Organ,
Flipper,
Erykah Badu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Flag,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
Patti Smith,
Country Teasers,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television Personalities,
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Half Japanese,
Bootsy Collins,
Todd Terry,
Deakin,
Black Pus,
Lalann,
Agent Orange,
Yaz,
Second Layer,
Das Ding,
Roxy Music,
The Move,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bluetip,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Boogie Down Productions,
PIL,
Mars,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.