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 Costa Rica and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 H. Thieme to the rock 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
Liliput,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dave Clark Five,
The United States of America,
Dave Gahan,
The Real Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Mandrill,
Warsaw,
The Litter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Flag,
Nik Kershaw,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
Aswad,
David McCallum,
Sexual Harrassment,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mummies,
The Five Americans,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Hood,
Fluxion,
Marmalade,
The Victims,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Surgeon,
Scion,
Hardrive,
Bob Dylan,
Icehouse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skarface,
A Certain Ratio,
Drexciya,
The Busters,
Johnny Clarke,
Malaria!,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marvin Gaye,
Zapp,
Derrick Morgan,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.