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 Ukraine and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 Brass Construction to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman 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?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Shuggie Otis,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
48th St. Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fad Gadget,
Soul II Soul,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nico,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Leonard Cohen,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Liliput,
Hardrive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
The Techniques,
Zapp,
Warsaw,
Blancmange,
Smog,
Johnny Clarke,
Hasil Adkins,
Malaria!,
Cluster,
The Monochrome Set,
The Invisible,
DJ Sneak,
The Busters,
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Letta Mbulu,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rekid,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
The Litter,
The Leaves,
Nas,
Lower 48,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
Siglo XX,
Magma,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David Axelrod,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.