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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Sällskapet,
The Fuzztones,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Hill,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
The Walker Brothers,
CMW,
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
Rhythm & Sound,
Newcleus,
The Skatalites,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ornette Coleman,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
Cymande,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Pole,
Japan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jerry's Kids,
Scan 7,
Organ,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Audionom,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
Minnie Riperton,
Connie Case,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dave Clark Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Funky Four + One,
Subhumans,
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.