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 Swaziland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
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 Black Pus to the dance 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
OOIOO,
Aswad,
Leonard Cohen,
Interpol,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
Fad Gadget,
Black Bananas,
Black Pus,
Funkadelic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Clarke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gories,
Magazine,
Los Fastidios,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Pylon,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
Main Source,
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
One Last Wish,
Henry Cow,
Deakin,
AZ,
Swell Maps,
Eddi Front,
Ituana,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Stetsasonic,
The Five Americans,
The Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Half Japanese,
Gang Starr,
Mandrill,
The Wake,
Von Mondo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.