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 Rwanda and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun City Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Basic Channel,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Severed Heads,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drexciya,
The Dave Clark Five,
China Crisis,
Dawn Penn,
Sam Rivers,
Marine Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lindisfarne,
The Modern Lovers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young,
Zero Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
The Happenings,
Don Cherry,
Excepter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
Andrew Hill,
Brass Construction,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Altered Images,
Ituana,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Lakeside,
The Index,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Ronan,
The Selecter,
John Lydon,
Boz Scaggs,
Arcadia,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Fraelich,
Procol Harum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gladiators,
Pere Ubu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, 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.