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 Malaysia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 David Bowie to the rap 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
The Slits,
10cc,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Barracudas,
Vainqueur,
Procol Harum,
Easy Going,
Index,
The Fortunes,
T. Rex,
Ten City,
Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Essential Logic,
Warsaw,
Funkadelic,
Depeche Mode,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Evens,
the Swans,
Maleditus Sound,
Barbara Tucker,
K-Klass,
Derrick May,
Rites of Spring,
The Stooges,
Hasil Adkins,
Ronan,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Star Department,
Bronski Beat,
Monolake,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
Reagan Youth,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
Swell Maps,
The Human League,
The Names,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare,
Quantec,
Bootsy Collins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Royal Trux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.