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 Benin and from Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sex Pistols to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Livin' Joy,
New Order,
Terrestrial Tones,
Parry Music,
Zero Boys,
The Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
Albert Ayler,
Mad Mike,
Kenny Larkin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian,
H. Thieme,
Young Marble Giants,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter and Kerry,
Boz Scaggs,
Wasted Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Adolescents,
ABC,
Lyres,
Echospace,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
Pole,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Dave Gahan,
Cybotron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Bar-Kays,
Tres Demented,
Chris Corsano,
Kayak,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
The Stooges,
Cymande,
The Evens,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
The Vogues,
The Busters,
Lightning Bolt,
In Retrospect,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Model 500,
Reagan Youth,
The Kinks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.