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 Canada and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Man Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Görl,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Black Dice,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Darondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
Dark Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang On A Can,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Whodini,
Skaos,
Piero Umiliani,
Curtis Mayfield,
Susan Cadogan,
Quando Quango,
The Monochrome Set,
The Monks,
Oblivians,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Lynne,
Easy Going,
Arthur Verocai,
Roger Hodgson,
Lindisfarne,
Bauhaus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Don Cherry,
Rod Modell,
The Fuzztones,
Lungfish,
Lalann,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
Anakelly,
Youth Brigade,
Davy DMX,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
One Last Wish,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.