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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Pretty Things to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Bourne,
Aural Exciters,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Doors,
The Velvet Underground,
Deepchord,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slits,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suicide,
Henry Cow,
Excepter,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Quadrant,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gun Club,
Minutemen,
Porter Ricks,
Letta Mbulu,
Crime,
Kayak,
Skaos,
Tom Boy,
Young Marble Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
Amon Düül II,
Harry Pussy,
Mars,
The Leaves,
The Gladiators,
Animal Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Scion,
The Dirtbombs,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
Lower 48,
Gong,
Morten Harket,
Dead Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.