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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Selecter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
This Heat,
Marvin Gaye,
Arab on Radar,
Depeche Mode,
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
Oneida,
David Bowie,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Bronski Beat,
Stockholm Monsters,
H. Thieme,
Morten Harket,
Scan 7,
Absolute Body Control,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mr. Review,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neil Young,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
Aloha Tigers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Little Man,
Zero Boys,
Massinfluence,
Negative Approach,
Steve Hackett,
Crooked Eye,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Interpol,
Sonic Youth,
Organ,
Supertramp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-102,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
The Dead C,
The Happenings,
Camouflage,
The Selecter,
UT,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.