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 Japan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television Personalities to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Soulsonic Force,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quantec,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker,
Lungfish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Rundgren,
John Coltrane,
Davy DMX,
Lebanon Hanover,
Make Up,
L. Decosne,
Inner City,
Youth Brigade,
Main Source,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick May,
T.S.O.L.,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronnie Foster,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Evens,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
The Birthday Party,
Tom Boy,
Wings,
The Neon Judgement,
Patti Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Steve Hackett,
The Slackers,
Isaac Hayes,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Moss Icon,
Stetsasonic,
Tommy Roe,
Cecil Taylor,
Y Pants,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
The Toasters,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.