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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fluxion to the punk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Vladislav Delay,
The Toasters,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skriet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arthur Verocai,
Marine Girls,
The Human League,
FM Einheit,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül II,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Blake Baxter,
Sarah Menescal,
T.S.O.L.,
The Durutti Column,
Yaz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sparks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yazoo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Michelle Simonal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pagans,
The Searchers,
Masters at Work,
Main Source,
Minnie Riperton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
PIL,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Tubeway Army,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harmonia,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sound,
Pole,
Make Up,
Bootsy Collins,
kango's stein massive,
Pulsallama,
Franke,
Max Romeo,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.