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 Nicaragua and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Invisible to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Susan Cadogan,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Stereo Dub,
The Young Rascals,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deepchord,
Cecil Taylor,
X-Ray Spex,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cramps,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Half Japanese,
Quadrant,
Swans,
Radiohead,
Wings,
Joe Finger,
Niagra,
the Swans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Axelrod,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Vogues,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
cv313,
The Happenings,
Crime,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
AZ,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Duran Duran,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warsaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerri Chandler,
Slick Rick,
Thompson Twins,
Bauhaus,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.