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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Robert Palmer 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 Fat Boys to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Henry Cow,
Goldenarms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delta 5,
AZ,
Hardrive,
Smog,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grauzone,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
kango's stein massive,
Youth Brigade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minutemen,
Davy DMX,
the Normal,
The Names,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faraquet,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bronski Beat,
Model 500,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hot Snakes,
Yazoo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Khruangbin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Kaleidoscope,
Ponytail,
Public Enemy,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cramps,
Camberwell Now,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Blossom Toes,
John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats,
Crime,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.