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 Zambia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
Skaos,
The Evens,
Maurizio,
the Association,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Wally Richardson,
Magazine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Starr,
Los Fastidios,
Hashim,
Black Flag,
The Angels of Light,
Au Pairs,
Trumans Water,
The Modern Lovers,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minutemen,
Eric Copeland,
Marvin Gaye,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
The Stooges,
R.M.O.,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Panda Bear,
Fat Boys,
Altered Images,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
One Last Wish,
Section 25,
LL Cool J,
Soul II Soul,
the Soft Cell,
Aswad,
Crooked Eye,
Morten Harket,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.