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 Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Donald Fagen 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 Hardrive to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
The Modern Lovers,
Big Daddy Kane,
EPMD,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delta 5,
Harry Pussy,
The Buckinghams,
Josef K,
The Stooges,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Make Up,
Judy Mowatt,
Boredoms,
The Real Kids,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Skaos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Symarip,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Suicide,
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
UT,
Oblivians,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Popol Vuh,
E-Dancer,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gap Band,
The Invisible,
Don Cherry,
Intrusion,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Circle Jerks,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
Darondo,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
Cecil Taylor,
Laurel Aitken,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.