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 Chile and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the electroclash 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Associates,
Zapp,
Stiv Bators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Green,
The Victims,
Fear,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Ronan,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Saints,
Gang Starr,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Near,
Joy Division,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delon & Dalcan,
UT,
Donny Hathaway,
Boogie Down Productions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ossler,
The Star Department,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Make Up,
The New Christs,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
Lalann,
Hashim,
Robert Hood,
Khruangbin,
the Slits,
The Invisible,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
Interpol,
Roy Ayers,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
Funkadelic,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Subhumans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Can,
Country Teasers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.