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 Belize and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Lou Christie to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Cramps,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
The Last Poets,
Colin Newman,
Deadbeat,
a-ha,
Robert Wyatt,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Black Moon,
Slave,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Y Pants,
Albert Ayler,
Camouflage,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Iggy Pop,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
June Days,
Underground Resistance,
Brand Nubian,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New Age Steppers,
The Fortunes,
Television Personalities,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
Schoolly D,
Wire,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Technova,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Kas Product,
Alphaville,
John Holt,
Minnie Riperton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fela Kuti,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dave Gahan,
Stetsasonic,
the Association,
The Blackbyrds,
X-102,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.