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 Korea North and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Stooges to the punk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding 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?
U.S. Maple,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
The Sonics,
K-Klass,
June of 44,
Anthony Braxton,
Juan Atkins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ice-T,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Hot Snakes,
Duran Duran,
Althea and Donna,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Enemy,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harmonia,
Half Japanese,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas,
Brand Nubian,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
The Star Department,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Bauhaus,
Monks,
Josef K,
Index,
John Holt,
Delta 5,
Girls At Our Best!,
R.M.O.,
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bluetip,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Kinks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
World's Most,
Bad Manners,
The Associates,
Aaron Thompson,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.