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 Papua New Guinea 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Henry Cow to the electroclash 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
Godley & Creme,
L. Decosne,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
Sällskapet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Clarke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
F. McDonald,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spoonie Gee,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Halsall,
Marine Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Human League,
the Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Marc Almond,
Delta 5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barbara Tucker,
The American Breed,
Porter Ricks,
The Mojo Men,
DNA,
Cameo,
a-ha,
Faraquet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bad Manners,
Symarip,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moebius,
Second Layer,
The Fugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.