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 Italy and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sam Rivers to the punk 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mr. Review,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Television Personalities,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Infiniti,
Zero Boys,
U.S. Maple,
KRS-One,
Joe Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
Gichy Dan,
Sparks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
OOIOO,
Harmonia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sällskapet,
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Franke,
the Soft Cell,
Maleditus Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kayak,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Kas Product,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Royal Trux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dead Boys,
Yaz,
D'Angelo,
Essential Logic,
The Moleskins,
Symarip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Vainqueur,
ABBA,
Accadde A,
Pulsallama,
Suicide,
China Crisis,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.