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 Lesotho and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The Gladiators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dead Boys,
Oblivians,
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Judy Mowatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fuzztones,
Monolake,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
The Searchers,
Franke,
Circle Jerks,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
Charles Mingus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Con Funk Shun,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T. Rex,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gregory Isaacs,
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
The Zeros,
Althea and Donna,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cure,
the Sonics,
Ossler,
The Techniques,
Silicon Teens,
Jawbox,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Hill,
The Blackbyrds,
Lucky Dragons,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bob Dylan,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.