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 Mongolia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Traffic Nightmare to the dance 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers,
Depeche Mode,
The Smiths,
Yazoo,
Lindisfarne,
The Angels of Light,
Bang On A Can,
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
Nas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cybotron,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Clear Light,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Womack,
Agitation Free,
Sixth Finger,
The Black Dice,
Mary Jane Girls,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
Brand Nubian,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fat Boys,
Smog,
Drexciya,
Angry Samoans,
Colin Newman,
Los Fastidios,
John Foxx,
Roxy Music,
The Fuzztones,
Judy Mowatt,
JFA,
Deakin,
Jeff Mills,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Arthur Verocai,
Fugazi,
David Bowie,
Bobby Sherman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.