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 United Kingdom and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lindisfarne to the disco 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Newcleus,
Quantec,
Reuben Wilson,
The Real Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Busters,
Fad Gadget,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
Barry Ungar,
The Pretty Things,
Joe Smooth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
Jawbox,
Minnie Riperton,
The Happenings,
Eli Mardock,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spoonie Gee,
Stereo Dub,
Boredoms,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
Moebius,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
New Age Steppers,
Warsaw,
Roger Hodgson,
The Leaves,
cv313,
X-102,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
Bronski Beat,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Blake Baxter,
Surgeon,
Niagra,
Siglo XX,
Camouflage,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.