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 Tunisia and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
Todd Rundgren,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fuzztones,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T.S.O.L.,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Skaos,
Marvin Gaye,
Gerry Rafferty,
Magazine,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
Fat Boys,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bad Manners,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mantronix,
Bush Tetras,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aaron Thompson,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dead C,
Reagan Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
Scion,
The Wake,
Television Personalities,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
Albert Ayler,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.