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 Nauru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Electric Prunes 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Reuben Wilson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grey Daturas,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Buckinghams,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Clear Light,
Motorama,
Theoretical Girls,
Bad Manners,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Hardrive,
Boredoms,
Crime,
Connie Case,
Neil Young,
Main Source,
Boz Scaggs,
Camouflage,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Josef K,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Essential Logic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Steve Hackett,
Adolescents,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
Susan Cadogan,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultravox,
Audionom,
The Toasters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moody Blues,
The Smiths,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.