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 United Kingdom and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer 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 Scientists to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alphaville,
Lou Christie,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Basic Channel,
Joe Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
The Modern Lovers,
Sex Pistols,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds,
Rod Modell,
Blancmange,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ponytail,
Rapeman,
Man Parrish,
Lalann,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
The Litter,
Ronan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tommy Roe,
Nirvana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Section 25,
The Monks,
The Associates,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Negative Approach,
The Moleskins,
Aloha Tigers,
Donald Byrd,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pagans,
Josef K,
Das Ding,
The Young Rascals,
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
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.