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 New Zealand and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
The Misunderstood,
Marcia Griffiths,
New Age Steppers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Roxette,
Pylon,
Bobby Byrd,
10cc,
Mission of Burma,
Cluster,
Mandrill,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Marvin Gaye,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Barracudas,
Motorama,
Neil Young,
E-Dancer,
Gichy Dan,
Niagra,
Unwound,
Pussy Galore,
Drexciya,
The Smoke,
U.S. Maple,
Talk Talk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Godley & Creme,
The Velvet Underground,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
JFA,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Todd Terry,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
Model 500,
Maurizio,
Wings,
The Tremeloes,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angry Samoans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Anakelly,
The Zeros,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Babytalk,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.