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 Kuwait and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Minny Pops 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Marcia Griffiths,
Simply Red,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stereo Dub,
K-Klass,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Lakeside,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
the Slits,
a-ha,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lungfish,
June Days,
Sun City Girls,
Magazine,
This Heat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
the Sonics,
Electric Prunes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Techniques,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
L. Decosne,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alton Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minor Threat,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sällskapet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rotary Connection,
Fela Kuti,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
The Doobie Brothers,
Trumans Water,
Sam Rivers,
The Star Department,
The Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.