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 Egypt and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minutemen to the dance 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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Los Fastidios,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Boredoms,
Ice-T,
Fear,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Country Teasers,
The Victims,
H. Thieme,
Stereo Dub,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
Television Personalities,
Mad Mike,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Anthony Braxton,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
Pierre Henry,
Scan 7,
Sound Behaviour,
Kayak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
Joy Division,
Spoonie Gee,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Christie,
Tres Demented,
Symarip,
Subhumans,
Funky Four + One,
Yazoo,
Steve Hackett,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Sun City Girls,
Make Up,
The Offenders,
Sister Nancy,
Anakelly,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Human League,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
Niagra,
Interpol,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sällskapet,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.