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 Kenya and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Au Pairs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Skarface,
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
The Victims,
Niagra,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Görl,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Lydon,
The Mummies,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Derrick May,
Terrestrial Tones,
Visage,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
Los Fastidios,
Joe Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Piero Umiliani,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Matthew Halsall,
Donny Hathaway,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Moby Grape,
Fear,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Grey Daturas,
Depeche Mode,
Quando Quango,
The Residents,
the Swans,
Magma,
The Slits,
a-ha,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fugazi,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
kango's stein massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marine Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Max Romeo,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.