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 Belgium 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Grass Roots,
cv313,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Cal Tjader,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Todd Terry,
Au Pairs,
Unrelated Segments,
Don Cherry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Los Fastidios,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Soft Machine,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Agent Orange,
Derrick May,
Bronski Beat,
DNA,
Robert Görl,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Associates,
Rekid,
Amazonics,
The Gories,
Sight & Sound,
Lakeside,
Icehouse,
Japan,
The Moody Blues,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Slave,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donald Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Pulsallama,
Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Red Krayola,
Niagra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
The Fugs,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.