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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultravox to the rap 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
Eddi Front,
Panda Bear,
Junior Murvin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Deakin,
Newcleus,
Prince Buster,
Funkadelic,
Derrick May,
David Bowie,
Pagans,
Graham Central Station,
10cc,
Moss Icon,
Q and Not U,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacques Brel,
Loose Ends,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy Collins,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Jerry's Kids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
Swell Maps,
Moebius,
Rotary Connection,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Porter Ricks,
Slave,
Mo-Dettes,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Starr,
June of 44,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
The Raincoats,
The Fall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Morten Harket,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.