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 Bulgaria and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Moss Icon to the disco 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amon Düül II,
The Angels of Light,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ponytail,
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Mandrill,
Chris Corsano,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cramps,
Saccharine Trust,
B.T. Express,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
Deadbeat,
the Association,
E-Dancer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Godley & Creme,
Ken Boothe,
Andrew Hill,
Con Funk Shun,
Liliput,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aaron Thompson,
Scott Walker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Toni Rubio,
Drexciya,
The Divine Comedy,
The Smiths,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
The Gun Club,
Excepter,
Soul II Soul,
Cluster,
Warren Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Wells,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tres Demented,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.