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 San Marino and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Television Personalities to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
Das Ding,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
JFA,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra,
R.M.O.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Icehouse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Almond,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
Duran Duran,
K-Klass,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
B.T. Express,
Aloha Tigers,
Tim Buckley,
Cluster,
Bobby Byrd,
Bizarre Inc.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Sherman,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
Alison Limerick,
Outsiders,
China Crisis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bronski Beat,
Brick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siglo XX,
Y Pants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
Deakin,
The Toasters,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.