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 Belarus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Pussy Galore to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heaven 17,
DJ Style,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Moon,
The Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
The Saints,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Max Romeo,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Chris Corsano,
Gong,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ohio Players,
Charles Mingus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Hood,
Sandy B,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mo-Dettes,
Boredoms,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Lakeside,
Dave Gahan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
T.S.O.L.,
Scratch Acid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joey Negro,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispy Ambulance,
Newcleus,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.