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 Antigua and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 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 Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Stereo Dub,
Yaz,
Carl Craig,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bush Tetras,
Niagra,
The Smoke,
Mad Mike,
UT,
Marc Almond,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
Intrusion,
Smog,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
The Zeros,
Surgeon,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronan,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalann,
Nirvana,
Ten City,
The Doors,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris Corsano,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
World's Most,
The American Breed,
Slick Rick,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
Q65,
Unwound,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
Television Personalities,
Graham Central Station,
Rod Modell,
Country Teasers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amon Düül,
Bluetip,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.