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 Palau and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Cowsills,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
The Mojo Men,
Icehouse,
Scratch Acid,
Roxy Music,
Quando Quango,
Sparks,
The J.B.'s,
Ponytail,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Skatalites,
Cameo,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Tim Buckley,
The Techniques,
Agent Orange,
Terry Callier,
Eden Ahbez,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
Nils Olav,
Royal Trux,
the Human League,
cv313,
Pylon,
Pagans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer,
Sight & Sound,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
Masters at Work,
Derrick May,
Juan Atkins,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Supertramp,
Sällskapet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Adolescents,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Holt,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville,
Duran Duran,
Delon & Dalcan,
FM Einheit,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.