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 East Timor and from Portland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dave Clark Five to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Jawbox,
Crooked Eye,
Arcadia,
The Moody Blues,
Quantec,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
MDC,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
The Birthday Party,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Juan Atkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suicide,
Aaron Thompson,
The Litter,
Fear,
Porter Ricks,
Basic Channel,
Aural Exciters,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
Magma,
Patti Smith,
the Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Sister Nancy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Simply Red,
Skriet,
Buzzcocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Sonics,
Brass Construction,
the Normal,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Christie,
Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Walker Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Bad Manners,
Barry Ungar,
Kerri Chandler,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Motorama,
Rekid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.