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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar 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 Fifty Foot Hose 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Reuben Wilson,
Neu!,
Wire,
The Star Department,
Toni Rubio,
The Count Five,
Stetsasonic,
Sugar Minott,
Janne Schatter,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
Rotary Connection,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rufus Thomas,
Moss Icon,
David McCallum,
David Bowie,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grey Daturas,
One Last Wish,
Michelle Simonal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
Von Mondo,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Vogues,
Audionom,
Tres Demented,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
Au Pairs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scientists,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brick,
OOIOO,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.