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 Russia and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Make Up to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Eddi Front,
Malaria!,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moleskins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aural Exciters,
Mantronix,
Spandau Ballet,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
Roger Hodgson,
Rotary Connection,
T.S.O.L.,
Shoche,
The Stooges,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Womack,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Black Bananas,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun Ra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wings,
Cluster,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
The Skatalites,
Gang Starr,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sugar Minott,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
ABC,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pierre Henry,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.