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 Iraq and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Hardrive to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kas Product,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Lynne,
Brothers Johnson,
Leonard Cohen,
the Association,
H. Thieme,
Blancmange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
Isaac Hayes,
Susan Cadogan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Slits,
John Holt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Reagan Youth,
the Slits,
Minny Pops,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tubeway Army,
Jacques Brel,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats,
Patti Smith,
The Searchers,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
Eden Ahbez,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Gang Starr,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
The Monks,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Nick Fraelich,
Joy Division,
Scrapy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Basic Channel,
Massinfluence,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.