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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid 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 oboe 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 Joey Negro to the disco 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
Neu!,
Youth Brigade,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
La Düsseldorf,
Piero Umiliani,
Average White Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Don Cherry,
New Order,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Moon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
Terrestrial Tones,
CMW,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Sheep,
The Evens,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Sherman,
Theoretical Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
U.S. Maple,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
Ossler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Goldenarms,
Radiohead,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Man Parrish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
T. Rex,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlback,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.