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 Antigua and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Saccharine Trust to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pylon,
Delon & Dalcan,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Faust,
David McCallum,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Organ,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lyres,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funky Four + One,
The Buckinghams,
Davy DMX,
The Moody Blues,
Susan Cadogan,
Can,
The Five Americans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Josef K,
Crash Course in Science,
JFA,
Absolute Body Control,
Danielle Patucci,
X-101,
Joe Finger,
Lou Christie,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Gap Band,
New Age Steppers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
The Smoke,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.