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 Sweden and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
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 guitar 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 Procol Harum to the funk 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Moon,
Lalann,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
One Last Wish,
Deadbeat,
The Leaves,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Simply Red,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
Audionom,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bob Dylan,
the Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
The Happenings,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül,
The United States of America,
Moebius,
The Index,
Joy Division,
Robert Wyatt,
Guru Guru,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
R.M.O.,
Rekid,
Sugar Minott,
Q and Not U,
The Knickerbockers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Spandau Ballet,
H. Thieme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Porter Ricks,
Funky Four + One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Magazine,
Unwound,
Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Das Ding,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
Vainqueur,
Y Pants,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.