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 South Africa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum 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 Depeche Mode to the jazz 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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Music Machine,
Rapeman,
Zero Boys,
The Fugs,
John Cale,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Sherman,
World's Most,
The Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Loose Ends,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul II Soul,
Aural Exciters,
Pagans,
DNA,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
Arthur Verocai,
Fad Gadget,
Thee Headcoats,
Youth Brigade,
The Gories,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crash Course in Science,
Sister Nancy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Royal Trux,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Motions,
Japan,
The Moleskins,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
Henry Cow,
Pussy Galore,
Model 500,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
Half Japanese,
Peter & Gordon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.