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 New Zealand and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
Cheater Slicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-Ray Spex,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
Nas,
The Searchers,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
Colin Newman,
Fatback Band,
Darondo,
DNA,
Lakeside,
Quando Quango,
Television Personalities,
Loose Ends,
The Residents,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Albert Ayler,
The Kinks,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
June Days,
Tears for Fears,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
The Saints,
Kurtis Blow,
Wire,
Scan 7,
Black Sheep,
48th St. Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
Godley & Creme,
The New Christs,
Janne Schatter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flash Fearless,
The Dirtbombs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Move,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Almond,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bill Near,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.