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 Honduras and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Matthew Bourne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Trojans,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
One Last Wish,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barry Ungar,
Ten City,
Quando Quango,
Das Ding,
Joe Finger,
The Evens,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Sherman,
Loose Ends,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
The Barracudas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
The New Christs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy,
the Normal,
The Blackbyrds,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skaos,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
Roxette,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
Basic Channel,
Bauhaus,
Yaz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
Television Personalities,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
The J.B.'s,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Human League,
Tres Demented,
Barbara Tucker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Bush Tetras,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.