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 Belize and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
Crime,
Clear Light,
Sällskapet,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Easy Going,
Patti Smith,
The Misunderstood,
The Cramps,
Banda Bassotti,
Cheater Slicks,
Symarip,
Magma,
Interpol,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
Echospace,
Swell Maps,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
kango's stein massive,
Anthony Braxton,
Ice-T,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Walker Brothers,
Jacques Brel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bronski Beat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronan,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
The Names,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.