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 Palau and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Silicon Teens to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Lalann,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Maleditus Sound,
Iggy Pop,
David Bowie,
Eve St. Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
In Retrospect,
Symarip,
Talk Talk,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
Marc Almond,
The Gories,
cv313,
Pantytec,
Boredoms,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cramps,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Reagan Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
Matthew Bourne,
Joy Division,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Josef K,
R.M.O.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sound Behaviour,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Machine,
The Star Department,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
MC5,
Eden Ahbez,
Kaleidoscope,
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brick,
D'Angelo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wire,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.