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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Motorama,
Lakeside,
Arthur Verocai,
Blossom Toes,
Liliput,
Television,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Max Romeo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angry Samoans,
Nik Kershaw,
Cluster,
Kurtis Blow,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dual Sessions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lungfish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Robert Wyatt,
Ronan,
Anthony Braxton,
Audionom,
Vladislav Delay,
John Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
The Offenders,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Sixth Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
Animal Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warsaw,
Josef K,
Scott Walker,
The J.B.'s,
Siglo XX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MC5,
Pussy Galore,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.