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 Lebanon and from New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 The Slits to the techno 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Anakelly,
The Kinks,
the Swans,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Albert Ayler,
Joe Finger,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aaron Thompson,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Smiths,
Barrington Levy,
Accadde A,
The Leaves,
Vainqueur,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
The Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skaos,
Henry Cow,
Cameo,
Underground Resistance,
New Order,
Piero Umiliani,
Maurizio,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
The Music Machine,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
Japan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
The Searchers,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.