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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
John Foxx,
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Motions,
Terry Callier,
Faust,
Gichy Dan,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
Pierre Henry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Move,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
This Heat,
Faraquet,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Star Department,
The Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
John Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
Supertramp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
The Count Five,
Skaos,
Nas,
The Monks,
Section 25,
Crash Course in Science,
The Evens,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Godley & Creme,
Sarah Menescal,
Inner City,
Nico,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Machine,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Smoke,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.