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 Cape Verde and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rekid to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Searchers,
The Toasters,
the Soft Cell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
Urselle,
The Move,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
The Fortunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxy Music,
FM Einheit,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lyres,
Newcleus,
Sam Rivers,
Colin Newman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scrapy,
Scott Walker,
The Evens,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Parry Music,
Crispian St. Peters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy Collins,
Echospace,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
The Techniques,
Pantytec,
Rites of Spring,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
the Normal,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Siglo XX,
New Age Steppers,
Altered Images,
Desert Stars,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.