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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wally Richardson to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
The Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
The Real Kids,
The New Christs,
The Moleskins,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
X-102,
Oneida,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flash Fearless,
Stereo Dub,
Ronnie Foster,
Lower 48,
Amon Düül,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Cell,
kango's stein massive,
Black Moon,
Moebius,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blossom Toes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
CMW,
The Grass Roots,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Soft Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thee Headcoats,
Easy Going,
Angry Samoans,
Juan Atkins,
Bang On A Can,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Barracudas,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.