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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pagans to the electroclash 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Patti Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terry Callier,
Blancmange,
Parry Music,
Mandrill,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
The Trojans,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Hill,
Cecil Taylor,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Guru Guru,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television Personalities,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
The Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Surgeon,
Eurythmics,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Age Steppers,
The Fire Engines,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
K-Klass,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fear,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.