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 Singapore and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the dance 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crime,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
Fad Gadget,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brass Construction,
Warren Ellis,
Icehouse,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
Nik Kershaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reuben Wilson,
Thompson Twins,
The Litter,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Janne Schatter,
Grauzone,
10cc,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
the Normal,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dead C,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Make Up,
Deakin,
The Buckinghams,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlback,
Toni Rubio,
Theoretical Girls,
The Saints,
Agitation Free,
Das Ding,
The American Breed,
The Velvet Underground,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monks,
Desert Stars,
Hashim,
Organ,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slackers,
The Fugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.