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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Magma to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Swans,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Henry Cow,
Dual Sessions,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Lower 48,
Lucky Dragons,
Yellowson,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Hill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
The Martian,
Sällskapet,
Skarface,
Scientists,
Robert Wyatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Morten Harket,
Trumans Water,
Aural Exciters,
The Happenings,
Can,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Swans,
Symarip,
Buzzcocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Grass Roots,
Radiohead,
The Invisible,
Wings,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Tom Boy,
Monolake,
X-101,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Suburban Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
The Golliwogs,
The Remains,
Man Parrish,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.