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 Montenegro and from Cairo.
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 Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the jazz 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
Fugazi,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Godley & Creme,
F. McDonald,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Underground Resistance,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grauzone,
Buzzcocks,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
David Bowie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Fat Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
Yaz,
Can,
China Crisis,
Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Laurel Aitken,
Mo-Dettes,
Arab on Radar,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Panda Bear,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.