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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Smooth,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
Mars,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
X-102,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
Boz Scaggs,
Barbara Tucker,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
The Sonics,
Negative Approach,
Crispian St. Peters,
10cc,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deakin,
June Days,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
John Coltrane,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gladiators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Bill Wells,
The Standells,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Simply Red,
Average White Band,
Bad Manners,
Jacques Brel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
The Cure,
Amon Düül II,
Sam Rivers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Excepter,
China Crisis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Darondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.