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 Gabon and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Litter,
Cluster,
The Sound,
Mars,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Hood,
Lou Christie,
Dave Gahan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neu!,
Nils Olav,
Livin' Joy,
Todd Terry,
Heaven 17,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
Aural Exciters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cecil Taylor,
Arthur Verocai,
Grey Daturas,
Prince Buster,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Fela Kuti,
Con Funk Shun,
the Soft Cell,
Byron Stingily,
The Mummies,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-101,
Dual Sessions,
Al Stewart,
Royal Trux,
Rufus Thomas,
Hasil Adkins,
Siglo XX,
The Invisible,
The Music Machine,
The Human League,
Motorama,
The Velvet Underground,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Minnie Riperton,
Laurel Aitken,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mad Mike,
Masters at Work,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Hill,
Duran Duran,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Sneak,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.