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 Bahamas and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Mr. Review to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gun Club,
the Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Modern Lovers,
Ornette Coleman,
Television Personalities,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Monks,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
Funky Four + One,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
Marc Almond,
Au Pairs,
Pylon,
Althea and Donna,
Yaz,
Sam Rivers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Stooges,
Ultra Naté,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Circle Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Selecter,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wolf Eyes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Terry,
Public Enemy,
John Coltrane,
The Mummies,
Prince Buster,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
Country Teasers,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
The Buckinghams,
Animal Collective,
Thompson Twins,
John Lydon,
The Litter,
Gichy Dan,
Skaos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Interpol,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.