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 Nauru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Shoche to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Deadbeat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rekid,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Banda Bassotti,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
Lindisfarne,
kango's stein massive,
Sixth Finger,
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
Barbara Tucker,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Shuggie Otis,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Bowie,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
Pole,
Patti Smith,
B.T. Express,
Carl Craig,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maleditus Sound,
Basic Channel,
A Certain Ratio,
The Martian,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Walker Brothers,
Ten City,
Eric Dolphy,
Supertramp,
The Velvet Underground,
Goldenarms,
DNA,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.