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 Netherlands and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 The Birthday Party to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
EPMD,
Rites of Spring,
Rakim,
the Sonics,
Simply Red,
Public Image Ltd.,
Faust,
The Neon Judgement,
The Doors,
Fluxion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Kas Product,
Mark Hollis,
FM Einheit,
The Associates,
Masters at Work,
Kevin Saunderson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sister Nancy,
The Selecter,
L. Decosne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Soft Cell,
The United States of America,
Ten City,
Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Audionom,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
The Young Rascals,
The Moody Blues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sparks,
Isaac Hayes,
Wasted Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Boredoms,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
Iggy Pop,
The Gories,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.