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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Moleskins to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Derrick May,
Roxy Music,
Reagan Youth,
Tres Demented,
Deadbeat,
Eurythmics,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories,
Ituana,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grauzone,
Man Parrish,
Moss Icon,
New Order,
The Blues Magoos,
Au Pairs,
Minor Threat,
Shoche,
X-101,
Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Black Flag,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Barclay James Harvest,
In Retrospect,
Monolake,
Pylon,
Moby Grape,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Slackers,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
China Crisis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Infiniti,
Stetsasonic,
The Mojo Men,
The Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Junior Murvin,
Make Up,
Index,
Gang Starr,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bauhaus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.