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 Somalia and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABBA,
La Düsseldorf,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
the Germs,
Stiv Bators,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mummies,
Livin' Joy,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
Young Marble Giants,
Delta 5,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Peter & Gordon,
Little Man,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Youth Brigade,
Blossom Toes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wings,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Count Five,
The Fuzztones,
The Skatalites,
Thee Headcoats,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
The Slits,
Minor Threat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.