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 Greece and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Quando Quango to the punk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Drexciya,
Gabor Szabo,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
The J.B.'s,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Leaves,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
Jandek,
Shoche,
Morten Harket,
Buzzcocks,
Marmalade,
John Lydon,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Matthew Bourne,
The Invisible,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
the Human League,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slits,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Eric Copeland,
B.T. Express,
Ponytail,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Zeros,
Arcadia,
Japan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Standells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.