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 South Sudan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the disco 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Marc Almond,
The Associates,
The Real Kids,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Music Machine,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Monolake,
Cluster,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
Kurtis Blow,
Ken Boothe,
The Move,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Royal Trux,
the Normal,
Ronnie Foster,
Fela Kuti,
Simply Red,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Frankie Knuckles,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
Lakeside,
Eric B and Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tears for Fears,
Wings,
Sandy B,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
The Fortunes,
Index,
Minutemen,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Infiniti,
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.