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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Malaria!,
Cal Tjader,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
Technova,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Roger Hodgson,
Minor Threat,
The Victims,
The Martian,
Rekid,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Simply Red,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantytec,
Stereo Dub,
Television Personalities,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fat Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donny Hathaway,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radio Birdman,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
Japan,
The Pop Group,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Joy Division,
Minnie Riperton,
Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Sun Ra,
Main Source,
LL Cool J,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Evens,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.