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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 The Associates to the techno 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions 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?
The Angels of Light,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drexciya,
June Days,
Model 500,
The Beau Brummels,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
The Searchers,
Scientists,
Mark Hollis,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Harmonia,
Saccharine Trust,
Scrapy,
The Index,
Audionom,
The Offenders,
T.S.O.L.,
Zapp,
Youth Brigade,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
New Order,
The Techniques,
Minutemen,
Ohio Players,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalann,
Lower 48,
Tubeway Army,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Procol Harum,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wally Richardson,
Dead Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra,
Interpol,
Pole,
Derrick Morgan,
Anakelly,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart,
Stockholm Monsters,
The United States of America,
Rakim,
Delta 5,
AZ,
Metal Thangz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Knickerbockers,
Maurizio,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.