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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Patti Smith,
Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
The Star Department,
Jawbox,
Nirvana,
Iggy Pop,
Circle Jerks,
Spandau Ballet,
AZ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
The Evens,
Interpol,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eurythmics,
Charles Mingus,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tres Demented,
L. Decosne,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Hardrive,
Intrusion,
Qualms,
Reuben Wilson,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
Reagan Youth,
Angry Samoans,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Louis and Bebe Barron,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Hill,
Sound Behaviour,
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.