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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 PIL to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Slackers,
Eli Mardock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glambeats Corp.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Half Japanese,
Faust,
Don Cherry,
Adolescents,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
The Names,
KRS-One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
Roxette,
cv313,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Japan,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Young Marble Giants,
Ossler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerrie Biddell,
Buzzcocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Excepter,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick Morgan,
Aaron Thompson,
Surgeon,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slits,
Crime,
Monolake,
Shoche,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
Sound Behaviour,
David Axelrod,
Underground Resistance,
Interpol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ponytail,
The Monks,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.