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 Ukraine and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 The Pop Group to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Radio Birdman,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Al Stewart,
Wasted Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Kas Product,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yaz,
Oblivians,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Doobie Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Star Department,
China Crisis,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
Ponytail,
the Slits,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
R.M.O.,
Scratch Acid,
Glenn Branca,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
Spoonie Gee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Skriet,
Smog,
The Buckinghams,
Cybotron,
Alphaville,
Rosa Yemen,
Arab on Radar,
Camouflage,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aswad,
the Sonics,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fall,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
H. Thieme,
Blossom Toes,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
The Sound,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.