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 Congo and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lindisfarne to the punk 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Almond,
The Gap Band,
Von Mondo,
T.S.O.L.,
Youth Brigade,
Piero Umiliani,
Joyce Sims,
Porter Ricks,
Newcleus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Franke,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Axelrod,
Joe Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Bush Tetras,
The Blues Magoos,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Halsall,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New Order,
Pussy Galore,
Funky Four + One,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Deakin,
The Slackers,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy,
Kerri Chandler,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
Surgeon,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Flag,
Roxy Music,
The Techniques,
Quando Quango,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amazonics,
Iggy Pop,
Crime,
The Young Rascals,
Dorothy Ashby,
Niagra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.