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 Switzerland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Shoche to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Index,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
Barbara Tucker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
48th St. Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Black Dice,
The Fugs,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
Sandy B,
Fear,
Erykah Badu,
Terrestrial Tones,
James White and The Blacks,
The Neon Judgement,
Quantec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Second Layer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun City Girls,
The Star Department,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül II,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fluxion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Subhumans,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
Mars,
ABC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Golliwogs,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Hood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Last Poets,
Parry Music,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Zeros,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.