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 Croatia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Thompson Twins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Martian,
Bootsy Collins,
Jandek,
Barclay James Harvest,
Franke,
Maurizio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sixth Finger,
One Last Wish,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ohio Players,
Television,
Avey Tare,
Siglo XX,
Royal Trux,
The Black Dice,
Isaac Hayes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
Lakeside,
Rites of Spring,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camberwell Now,
Rufus Thomas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pagans,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Freddie Wadling,
Nils Olav,
Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
The Skatalites,
Average White Band,
T. Rex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aaron Thompson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Theoretical Girls,
DNA,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Henry Cow,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Velvet Underground,
H. Thieme,
Rosa Yemen,
L. Decosne,
Chris & Cosey,
The Searchers,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.