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 Malaysia and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Archie Shepp to the punk 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun,
James White and The Blacks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fire Engines,
AZ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
PIL,
Fugazi,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stiv Bators,
Circle Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
Sixth Finger,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
The Misunderstood,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Steve Hackett,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cymande,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Victims,
Amon Düül,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Max Romeo,
Roxette,
Oblivians,
Nils Olav,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thee Headcoats,
ABBA,
This Heat,
The Gories,
Sonic Youth,
Das Ding,
DNA,
The Seeds,
Jandek,
Reuben Wilson,
Pulsallama,
Rod Modell,
Minor Threat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Morten Harket,
The Velvet Underground,
Moss Icon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fugs,
Adolescents,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.