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 Liechtenstein and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Birthday Party to the rock 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crime,
the Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
FM Einheit,
Gabor Szabo,
Easy Going,
Talk Talk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roger Hodgson,
Banda Bassotti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare,
Franke,
Jacques Brel,
Soulsonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Sixth Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Byrd,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alice Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Minny Pops,
Amazonics,
OOIOO,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris & Cosey,
Zapp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index,
Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Guru Guru,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
Q65,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Deepchord,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.