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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Intrusion to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
Idris Muhammad,
Amazonics,
The Monks,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
The Kinks,
PIL,
The Smoke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Absolute Body Control,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
UT,
Bauhaus,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Minor Threat,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Talk Talk,
the Swans,
A Certain Ratio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
Audionom,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Bill Wells,
Warren Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magma,
Morten Harket,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rotary Connection,
Byron Stingily,
Interpol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül,
Fat Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Anthony Braxton,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Nas,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.