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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 UT to the grunge 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum 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 snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Index,
Howard Jones,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Busters,
The Monochrome Set,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
FM Einheit,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Halsall,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Litter,
Bush Tetras,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Green,
UT,
New York Dolls,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick May,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Near,
Cybotron,
Absolute Body Control,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
Harmonia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tears for Fears,
Godley & Creme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker,
Sam Rivers,
Smog,
Laurel Aitken,
Eddi Front,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Hot Snakes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.