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 Nepal and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Royal Trux to the grunge 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
New Order,
The Techniques,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soul II Soul,
DNA,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Connie Case,
Vladislav Delay,
Lower 48,
The Victims,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers,
Ponytail,
Ronan,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
B.T. Express,
Blossom Toes,
Desert Stars,
Niagra,
Siglo XX,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
The Standells,
The Mummies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
Porter Ricks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
Can,
The Busters,
Bobby Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
Cybotron,
Alice Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Crooked Eye,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.