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 Brazil and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 World's Most to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Infiniti,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Flash Fearless,
Ponytail,
CMW,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cal Tjader,
The American Breed,
Monks,
Anakelly,
Japan,
Crash Course in Science,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monolake,
The Litter,
Bobby Womack,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Essential Logic,
June Days,
Absolute Body Control,
Marine Girls,
Minny Pops,
Pantytec,
Tres Demented,
Tim Buckley,
Marvin Gaye,
Jawbox,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
Babytalk,
Echospace,
The United States of America,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visage,
MDC,
Surgeon,
Camberwell Now,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
Barrington Levy,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül II,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.