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 Eritrea and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Yellowson,
Ken Boothe,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Fall,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Sheep,
Bill Near,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Janne Schatter,
Talk Talk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arthur Verocai,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
Lindisfarne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
James White and The Blacks,
The Grass Roots,
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Quando Quango,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
the Association,
The Human League,
Sällskapet,
Rosa Yemen,
Silicon Teens,
Arab on Radar,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Hood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shuggie Otis,
Absolute Body Control,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
World's Most,
Brothers Johnson,
Skarface,
Pulsallama,
The Blackbyrds,
Moby Grape,
Suburban Knight,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Reuben Wilson,
the Germs,
X-102,
Electric Prunes,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.