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 Armenia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Rufus Thomas to the funk 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Section 25,
Scan 7,
Shoche,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
Michelle Simonal,
Stetsasonic,
Tim Buckley,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ponytail,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Radiohead,
Wally Richardson,
Audionom,
Newcleus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Man Parrish,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalann,
Ohio Players,
The Toasters,
Hot Snakes,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
Schoolly D,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
Khruangbin,
Monolake,
Brass Construction,
The Fall,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
Faust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fortunes,
The Star Department,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.