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 Chad and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Josef K to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wally Richardson,
Monolake,
Lalann,
Unwound,
Unrelated Segments,
Quantec,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Görl,
Rites of Spring,
Deadbeat,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Raincoats,
The Last Poets,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Zero Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Erasure,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Index,
EPMD,
Grauzone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Clarke,
Rufus Thomas,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeru the Damaja,
DNA,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zapp,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
MDC,
Animal Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
B.T. Express,
Davy DMX,
Leonard Cohen,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
Charles Mingus,
Black Moon,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Lebanon Hanover,
Boz Scaggs,
E-Dancer,
Sällskapet,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.