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 St Lucia and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New York Dolls to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Alphaville,
Half Japanese,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marine Girls,
Howard Jones,
Radiohead,
Ornette Coleman,
Albert Ayler,
Leonard Cohen,
Lindisfarne,
The Tremeloes,
Barrington Levy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
David McCallum,
Cluster,
EPMD,
Sight & Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magma,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Animal Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amazonics,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
The Durutti Column,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
The Victims,
the Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Stetsasonic,
The Moleskins,
Todd Rundgren,
A Certain Ratio,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Aloha Tigers,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.