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 Saudi Arabia and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 MDC to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Deakin,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
Unwound,
Godley & Creme,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
Man Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Tom Boy,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Fraelich,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Janne Schatter,
June Days,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
The Velvet Underground,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Supertramp,
Ohio Players,
Flash Fearless,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shoche,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gichy Dan,
The Angels of Light,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Visage,
The Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tommy Roe,
Index,
Neu!,
Eddi Front,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.