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 Laos and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pet Shop Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
Magazine,
Grauzone,
Scion,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispy Ambulance,
Steve Hackett,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter & Gordon,
Japan,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suicide,
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
Sister Nancy,
Newcleus,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Excepter,
Rakim,
Organ,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Moon,
The Cure,
Jandek,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cluster,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wings,
The Leaves,
Toni Rubio,
The Fuzztones,
Pere Ubu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rites of Spring,
Tom Boy,
Ituana,
Nico,
The Divine Comedy,
New Age Steppers,
Sound Behaviour,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.