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 Tunisia and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Swans 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
the Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
Ice-T,
The Invisible,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
Bauhaus,
cv313,
Yaz,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Sandy B,
Crooked Eye,
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Lynne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q and Not U,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siglo XX,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Main Source,
the Association,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Liliput,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stereo Dub,
Black Flag,
Colin Newman,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Fatback Band,
The Kinks,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy Collins,
Suburban Knight,
Desert Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Fluxion,
Das Ding,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mars,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.