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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 sitar 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 Oneida to the techno 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Ten City,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Names,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
Spandau Ballet,
The United States of America,
Graham Central Station,
The Searchers,
Byron Stingily,
The Tremeloes,
Clear Light,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Görl,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cure,
Eric Copeland,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Divine Comedy,
This Heat,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
Brick,
Colin Newman,
Peter and Kerry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Technova,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mission of Burma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Echospace,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Chris Corsano,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oneida,
The Human League,
June of 44,
Swans,
Marine Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
ABBA,
Altered Images,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minny Pops,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Sherman,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.