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 Barbados and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
Tears for Fears,
Blancmange,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Alphaville,
Juan Atkins,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
Gabor Szabo,
Quantec,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Selecter,
Banda Bassotti,
Organ,
Urselle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Erykah Badu,
ABC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
MC5,
The Searchers,
Erasure,
Cymande,
Fat Boys,
Anakelly,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
Gang of Four,
The Associates,
Von Mondo,
Harmonia,
Tim Buckley,
Jacques Brel,
Iggy Pop,
Yazoo,
Whodini,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
Crooked Eye,
Maurizio,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Parry Music,
Toni Rubio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.