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 United Kingdom and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Copeland to the rock 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Robert Wyatt,
Wings,
Fear,
ABBA,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
Minny Pops,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Doors,
Soft Cell,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smiths,
Robert Görl,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
Fat Boys,
The Count Five,
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Barry Ungar,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
The Gories,
EPMD,
Harmonia,
the Germs,
The Birthday Party,
UT,
OOIOO,
Sällskapet,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
The Five Americans,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Brick,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
Talk Talk,
The Smoke,
Derrick Morgan,
Joyce Sims,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.