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 Serbia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Wire,
Scrapy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Litter,
Ituana,
Faust,
Hardrive,
Inner City,
Pulsallama,
Desert Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Flamin' Groovies,
Model 500,
The Dirtbombs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Theoretical Girls,
DNA,
Charles Mingus,
Soul II Soul,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Niagra,
Black Moon,
DJ Sneak,
Minutemen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
The Neon Judgement,
48th St. Collective,
Blancmange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Warren Ellis,
The Searchers,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skriet,
Clear Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
DJ Style,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quadrant,
Y Pants,
Monolake,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Byrd,
Tom Boy,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.