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 Afghanistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kurtis Blow to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan,
Tommy Roe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
Joe Finger,
Ultra Naté,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter and Kerry,
AZ,
Wally Richardson,
Cymande,
Dead Boys,
June Days,
Lucky Dragons,
Yellowson,
Organ,
Black Sheep,
Main Source,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
DNA,
Bill Near,
Gang Green,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
Sällskapet,
The Smiths,
Anakelly,
Icehouse,
Little Man,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
The Move,
Lakeside,
Soft Machine,
The Selecter,
Subhumans,
New Order,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slackers,
Can,
Echospace,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols,
Q and Not U,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blancmange,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Tim Buckley,
The Motions,
Procol Harum,
Sandy B,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.