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 Kosovo and from Halifax.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Warsaw,
Toni Rubio,
Lyres,
the Association,
DJ Sneak,
Quando Quango,
Can,
Howard Jones,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
The Misunderstood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Raincoats,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Germs,
The Blackbyrds,
Clear Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thompson Twins,
Altered Images,
The Saints,
Hoover,
Niagra,
Lower 48,
The Leaves,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funkadelic,
Jerry's Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
Lungfish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roger Hodgson,
Bill Near,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Move,
Fugazi,
Gang Starr,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liliput,
Nils Olav,
Gang of Four,
Excepter,
The Martian,
Duran Duran,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
Albert Ayler,
The Velvet Underground,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.