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 Mongolia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
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 oboe 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 Blossom Toes to the techno 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
Rekid,
Lungfish,
The Blues Magoos,
Wolf Eyes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
Albert Ayler,
Camberwell Now,
Von Mondo,
Amon Düül II,
Blossom Toes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stiv Bators,
Brand Nubian,
Dead Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Suicide,
Peter and Kerry,
the Association,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
The Zeros,
The Toasters,
Kaleidoscope,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Move,
Crime,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry's Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Eli Mardock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Leaves,
The Moleskins,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.