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 Uganda and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 John Lydon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Joensuu 1685,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erasure,
The Birthday Party,
The Five Americans,
Swans,
The Zeros,
Tubeway Army,
Q65,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Charles Mingus,
Scrapy,
Eric B and Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Lightning Bolt,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Massinfluence,
Excepter,
Nico,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry's Kids,
Prince Buster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Inner City,
Terry Callier,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacques Brel,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Cluster,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
The Move,
Parry Music,
Ultra Naté,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.