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 Libya and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the grunge 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne 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 Walker Brothers,
John Foxx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lower 48,
T.S.O.L.,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
Masters at Work,
Das Ding,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
Eden Ahbez,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chrome,
Japan,
X-102,
Leonard Cohen,
Sex Pistols,
Juan Atkins,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
a-ha,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythm & Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Echospace,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
Idris Muhammad,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
Black Flag,
Stetsasonic,
Qualms,
The Offenders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Blake Baxter,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Arthur Verocai,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fat Boys,
The Count Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.