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 Slovakia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Robert Wyatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
Masters at Work,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gories,
The Saints,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Techniques,
Kevin Saunderson,
Das Ding,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Prince Buster,
The Five Americans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suicide,
Lower 48,
Panda Bear,
Q65,
Franke,
Von Mondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Flag,
The Sound,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Quadrant,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Eden Ahbez,
the Slits,
Joensuu 1685,
Quantec,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
The Selecter,
The Misunderstood,
Fad Gadget,
The Golliwogs,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
Cybotron,
Godley & Creme,
Fugazi,
Funkadelic,
The Mummies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.