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 Ireland and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Darondo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
ABC,
Bauhaus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick Morgan,
The Litter,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Barracudas,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Interpol,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sight & Sound,
Ponytail,
Black Moon,
the Germs,
Lakeside,
The Seeds,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
Johnny Clarke,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Underground Resistance,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
Mission of Burma,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry's Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Leonard Cohen,
Popol Vuh,
Josef K,
Camouflage,
Vladislav Delay,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Busters,
Nick Fraelich,
Howard Jones,
Stiv Bators,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.