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 Andorra and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rapeman to the jazz 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Count Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
Derrick May,
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Saints,
Neu!,
The New Christs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Terry,
Scion,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Todd Rundgren,
Delta 5,
The Blues Magoos,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
The Sonics,
ABC,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pole,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
Letta Mbulu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aswad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
Moby Grape,
Sound Behaviour,
Audionom,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Almond,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.