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 Hungary and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Eric Copeland to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Tremeloes,
John Lydon,
EPMD,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brass Construction,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smoke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Excepter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül II,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring,
Fad Gadget,
The Gories,
Little Man,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
The Five Americans,
Prince Buster,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultravox,
DNA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
FM Einheit,
Black Sheep,
The Red Krayola,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
The Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swell Maps,
Mission of Burma,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
Harmonia,
Au Pairs,
Joy Division,
Alison Limerick,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Dolphy,
The New Christs,
Robert Wyatt,
the Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
Skriet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.