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 Zambia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Morten Harket to the punk 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Cheater Slicks,
the Sonics,
Parry Music,
Charles Mingus,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Can,
MC5,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
The Standells,
Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fear,
Neil Young,
Yusef Lateef,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rekid,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Johnny Clarke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Cell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joy Division,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ornette Coleman,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sight & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pantaleimon,
Maurizio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cecil Taylor,
Rosa Yemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.