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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 La Düsseldorf to the disco 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
Blake Baxter,
Freddie Wadling,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bluetip,
The Names,
Sight & Sound,
Schoolly D,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Real Kids,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echospace,
Sonic Youth,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
The Vogues,
Sparks,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
The Sound,
Q and Not U,
Bob Dylan,
Zapp,
Don Cherry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Symarip,
David Bowie,
Lower 48,
Jawbox,
Cecil Taylor,
Yaz,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Star Department,
F. McDonald,
Leonard Cohen,
Kaleidoscope,
Groovy Waters,
The Barracudas,
Derrick Morgan,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quando Quango,
The United States of America,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Last Poets,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grauzone,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.