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 Pakistan and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 The American Breed to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
The Victims,
Wally Richardson,
Echospace,
Nirvana,
A Certain Ratio,
Das Ding,
The Invisible,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Warsaw,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
The Pretty Things,
Wings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
Kenny Larkin,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Basic Channel,
Livin' Joy,
JFA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
Pole,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Mills,
Ludus,
Blossom Toes,
Erasure,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Fatback Band,
David McCallum,
Thee Headcoats,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Knickerbockers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
The Fugs,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.