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 Austria and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Fear,
Matthew Halsall,
Subhumans,
David Bowie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Charles Mingus,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Germs,
Goldenarms,
The Toasters,
Dark Day,
Audionom,
the Normal,
Suburban Knight,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
Babytalk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moby Grape,
Funkadelic,
Camouflage,
Radiohead,
Eden Ahbez,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
Godley & Creme,
R.M.O.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Rites of Spring,
Essential Logic,
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens,
Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
The Motions,
The Moleskins,
Vainqueur,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Gang Green,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
Negative Approach,
Mars,
Lee Hazlewood,
World's Most,
Ponytail,
The Dirtbombs,
Aural Exciters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.