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 Manila.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Wings to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Cowsills,
The Invisible,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Negative Approach,
Tears for Fears,
The Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Michelle Simonal,
The Blues Magoos,
The Real Kids,
Fat Boys,
Aswad,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dave Clark Five,
Flipper,
Connie Case,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Magma,
Ice-T,
K-Klass,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
Livin' Joy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Trumans Water,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott Heron,
Technova,
Joe Smooth,
The Residents,
Joy Division,
Camouflage,
Skarface,
DNA,
Pylon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
The Vogues,
T.S.O.L.,
Nico,
The Modern Lovers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Absolute Body Control,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.