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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Maurizio to the funk 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Gang Dance,
DNA,
Reuben Wilson,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quantec,
Q65,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
T. Rex,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Skatalites,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Cale,
Little Man,
Bill Near,
Freddie Wadling,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Wasted Youth,
Duran Duran,
Supertramp,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Carl Craig,
Technova,
Radiohead,
Black Flag,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Matthew Bourne,
Thee Headcoats,
These Immortal Souls,
The Techniques,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Banda Bassotti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Scan 7,
Kaleidoscope,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
John Lydon,
Severed Heads,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.