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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 X-Ray Spex to the rock 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
Scratch Acid,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
Black Flag,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
Reagan Youth,
Anakelly,
Model 500,
Eli Mardock,
KRS-One,
Spoonie Gee,
Camberwell Now,
Main Source,
Charles Mingus,
Japan,
Dave Gahan,
Technova,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
OOIOO,
The Seeds,
Lakeside,
Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Animal Collective,
The Martian,
The Trojans,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
UT,
The Angels of Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxy Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nas,
The Cramps,
Hardrive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marshall Jefferson,
B.T. Express,
The Index,
Pantaleimon,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
F. McDonald,
DJ Style,
Fat Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.