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 Libya and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba 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 Quando Quango to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Toasters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Womack,
Deakin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Max Romeo,
Mark Hollis,
Funky Four + One,
Black Sheep,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Second Layer,
Anthony Braxton,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kaleidoscope,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brothers Johnson,
Freddie Wadling,
DNA,
Scan 7,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
The Fortunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Ossler,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
Skriet,
Barrington Levy,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
The Black Dice,
Tres Demented,
The Red Krayola,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Matthew Halsall,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Durutti Column,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Infiniti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
Ken Boothe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.