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 Milan.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Radio Birdman to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Henry Cow,
China Crisis,
Todd Terry,
Aaron Thompson,
The Star Department,
Metal Thangz,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gun Club,
Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suburban Knight,
Rhythm & Sound,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
Shoche,
Shuggie Otis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronnie Foster,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Green,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Delta 5,
Ronan,
Nirvana,
Wings,
Skarface,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Flag,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
Franke,
H. Thieme,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Near,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.