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 Uzbekistan and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
the Association,
Deepchord,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aswad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Lydon,
The Walker Brothers,
Audionom,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pole,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delta 5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
EPMD,
The Modern Lovers,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
The J.B.'s,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
Dual Sessions,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
Y Pants,
DJ Sneak,
X-102,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cowsills,
Joyce Sims,
Michelle Simonal,
Ludus,
The Skatalites,
Danielle Patucci,
Sight & Sound,
Malaria!,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.