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 Guinea-Bissau and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
T. Rex,
Sister Nancy,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Subhumans,
The Buckinghams,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Basic Channel,
Infiniti,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
Bang On A Can,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Man Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Max Romeo,
Eurythmics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxette,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
Maleditus Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
Harry Pussy,
Popol Vuh,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultimate Spinach,
Saccharine Trust,
The Busters,
Ituana,
Television Personalities,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Hoover,
Michelle Simonal,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.