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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the grunge 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Agitation Free,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
Motorama,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül II,
Harpers Bizarre,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Sexual Harrassment,
K-Klass,
Niagra,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Todd Rundgren,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
Anakelly,
Make Up,
Althea and Donna,
The Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fall,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
The Move,
Joy Division,
Gichy Dan,
A Certain Ratio,
Suburban Knight,
David Axelrod,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Davy DMX,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Thee Headcoats,
Henry Cow,
The Velvet Underground,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.