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 Gambia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The Dead C,
Infiniti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Parry Music,
Minny Pops,
New Order,
The Wake,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Cell,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
Dead Boys,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Public Enemy,
Faust,
The Litter,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Almond,
The Standells,
The Motions,
Camberwell Now,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Stooges,
Intrusion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gladiators,
Interpol,
Kayak,
Half Japanese,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
Pagans,
Lower 48,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
The Black Dice,
Joe Finger,
Sun Ra,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Section 25,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.