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 South Sudan and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonics to the punk 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonic Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
John Lydon,
Minutemen,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
John Cale,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
Chrome,
Guru Guru,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ituana,
Brass Construction,
The Vogues,
Patti Smith,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Charles Mingus,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultra Naté,
Kaleidoscope,
Porter Ricks,
Clear Light,
Moebius,
Main Source,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wasted Youth,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Amon Düül,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Görl,
kango's stein massive,
Sandy B,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
Little Man,
cv313,
Magazine,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
John Foxx,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sparks,
Althea and Donna,
Tears for Fears,
The Golliwogs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Eve St. Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Pagans,
Rosa Yemen,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.