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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the punk 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Urselle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dark Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Hood,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Interpol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Visage,
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crash Course in Science,
Fela Kuti,
Kas Product,
T.S.O.L.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Trumans Water,
Pole,
Wire,
Eddi Front,
Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
the Bar-Kays,
Ten City,
The Martian,
Johnny Clarke,
Liliput,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stetsasonic,
Bad Manners,
Hardrive,
Black Sheep,
K-Klass,
Scion,
Oblivians,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.