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 Taiwan and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lalann to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Rites of Spring,
Young Marble Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
China Crisis,
Mad Mike,
Circle Jerks,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
Severed Heads,
Robert Hood,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Sheep,
Barclay James Harvest,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
Lou Christie,
Visage,
The Beau Brummels,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Magma,
The Buckinghams,
Dark Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Lydon,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
Suicide,
Prince Buster,
Rakim,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
The Divine Comedy,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Foxx,
Excepter,
Nik Kershaw,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aswad,
Deepchord,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sound,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.