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 Senegal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moss Icon to the dance 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
The Mummies,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maurizio,
Brand Nubian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sound Behaviour,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
Morten Harket,
PIL,
The American Breed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sight & Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skriet,
Juan Atkins,
Dennis Brown,
Crime,
Jandek,
The Happenings,
This Heat,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ronnie Foster,
Moss Icon,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Bill Wells,
Joensuu 1685,
Magma,
Groovy Waters,
Sandy B,
The Human League,
Symarip,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
Minor Threat,
Q and Not U,
Tubeway Army,
Alphaville,
The Gap Band,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet,
Icehouse,
Echospace,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aaron Thompson,
Wings,
The Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.