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 Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 In Retrospect to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reuben Wilson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Radio Birdman,
Wally Richardson,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
X-102,
Negative Approach,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
Sandy B,
Panda Bear,
Kerri Chandler,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Graham Central Station,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds,
Outsiders,
Jacques Brel,
The Sonics,
Second Layer,
Fear,
Fela Kuti,
Bad Manners,
Michelle Simonal,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maurizio,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalo Schifrin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Essential Logic,
Soft Machine,
The Fugs,
Lightning Bolt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster,
The Grass Roots,
The Mummies,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.