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 Cuba and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barracudas to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
T.S.O.L.,
PIL,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ronan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
A Certain Ratio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Johnny Clarke,
Monolake,
Model 500,
The Misunderstood,
Q65,
Kaleidoscope,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Deadbeat,
The Sonics,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scan 7,
Panda Bear,
Bauhaus,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bush Tetras,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Black Dice,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Teasers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Circle Jerks,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Lydon,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.