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 Austria and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Freddie Wadling,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
In Retrospect,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Smooth,
Smog,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Hashim,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pagans,
The Slits,
The Monks,
Flipper,
Unwound,
Subhumans,
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Minutemen,
The Blackbyrds,
The Selecter,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wally Richardson,
Ohio Players,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
Mars,
The Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
Warren Ellis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Technova,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.