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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 Pere Ubu to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Country Teasers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gladiators,
Lalann,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacob Miller,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moss Icon,
Boredoms,
The Techniques,
The Skatalites,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anakelly,
Matthew Halsall,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scan 7,
Stiv Bators,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Organ,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
June Days,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
Quadrant,
Rapeman,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Bowie,
The Remains,
Al Stewart,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
The Happenings,
Ronnie Foster,
Clear Light,
Circle Jerks,
The Martian,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.