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 Jamaica and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Real Kids 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
The Barracudas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
Joy Division,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Invisible,
La Düsseldorf,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
Isaac Hayes,
Minor Threat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang On A Can,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scratch Acid,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erykah Badu,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
Deepchord,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
UT,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ludus,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
Chris & Cosey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
Crispian St. Peters,
cv313,
Howard Jones,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Sheep,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.