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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 OOIOO to the rock 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Residents,
Mr. Review,
Gang Green,
Model 500,
The Skatalites,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Almond,
Faraquet,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Adolescents,
Charles Mingus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Davy DMX,
Guru Guru,
The Techniques,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Eve St. Jones,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quando Quango,
Livin' Joy,
The Angels of Light,
the Germs,
Whodini,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Kas Product,
Pantytec,
Henry Cow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
Quadrant,
Mary Jane Girls,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Count Five,
the Sonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Agitation Free,
The Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.