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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Move to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
Royal Trux,
Groovy Waters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echospace,
Suicide,
L. Decosne,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Christie,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donald Byrd,
Deepchord,
Skarface,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alton Ellis,
Lungfish,
The Skatalites,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Gerry Rafferty,
Underground Resistance,
The Gap Band,
Sam Rivers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Audionom,
Avey Tare,
Danielle Patucci,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Y Pants,
The American Breed,
Magazine,
Marvin Gaye,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Accadde A,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Halsall,
The Selecter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
Brass Construction,
The Durutti Column,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.