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 Russia and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mad Mike to the crunk 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
The Fugs,
Unwound,
Ken Boothe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Essential Logic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
Lindisfarne,
Reuben Wilson,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Matthew Halsall,
Deepchord,
Jacques Brel,
Ludus,
Yaz,
Animal Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hashim,
Carl Craig,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Ituana,
Black Flag,
Motorama,
Outsiders,
June Days,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Association,
Lyres,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Music Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Quadrant,
Cymande,
Rekid,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
The Angels of Light,
Aswad,
Johnny Clarke,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
Pantaleimon,
Nas,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Althea and Donna,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.