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 Comoros and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Human League,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cameo,
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masters at Work,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Fad Gadget,
Roxette,
Barbara Tucker,
E-Dancer,
Quadrant,
Laurel Aitken,
Massinfluence,
Magma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kurtis Blow,
Girls At Our Best!,
10cc,
The Fortunes,
The Gladiators,
The Dave Clark Five,
Model 500,
Mark Hollis,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Skaos,
Mr. Review,
Moebius,
Black Sheep,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rod Modell,
David Bowie,
Popol Vuh,
Albert Ayler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Remains,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.