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 Cairo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 OOIOO 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bronski Beat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gories,
Carl Craig,
DJ Sneak,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Sarah Menescal,
Cybotron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Archie Shepp,
Camouflage,
Ponytail,
Radiohead,
The Leaves,
The Index,
Q65,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Bauhaus,
Morten Harket,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
Barbara Tucker,
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Unwound,
Pantaleimon,
The Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
Hashim,
The Seeds,
Donny Hathaway,
The Remains,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
Warsaw,
Quantec,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
One Last Wish,
the Association,
The Modern Lovers,
Trumans Water,
DNA,
Make Up,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rites of Spring,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.