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 Ecuador 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rock 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mantronix,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Howard Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Ludus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
Siglo XX,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Saccharine Trust,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters,
Juan Atkins,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Yusef Lateef,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Golliwogs,
Peter and Kerry,
Tim Buckley,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Interpol,
Inner City,
The Moody Blues,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rapeman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alice Coltrane,
Scrapy,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
Make Up,
A Certain Ratio,
Connie Case,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Donald Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
The Raincoats,
Slave,
Suburban Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.