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 Estonia and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the punk 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Barrington Levy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
Minutemen,
Rod Modell,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
Cameo,
Heaven 17,
Con Funk Shun,
Inner City,
The Misunderstood,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
John Foxx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Magazine,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
The Tremeloes,
Graham Central Station,
Alphaville,
Yaz,
Joey Negro,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Deakin,
Ronan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
Moby Grape,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Al Stewart,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marine Girls,
Patti Smith,
Tommy Roe,
JFA,
Newcleus,
Hashim,
Dave Gahan,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.