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 Benin and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Yusef Lateef to the punk 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Franke,
Chrome,
Kaleidoscope,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Wyatt,
Newcleus,
Wally Richardson,
Cheater Slicks,
R.M.O.,
Khruangbin,
Thompson Twins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aloha Tigers,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Au Pairs,
Banda Bassotti,
Nirvana,
Bang On A Can,
Television,
The United States of America,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
The Zeros,
48th St. Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
Oblivians,
Dark Day,
Cal Tjader,
The Evens,
Vladislav Delay,
Angry Samoans,
Visage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
10cc,
UT,
Index,
E-Dancer,
Cameo,
Parry Music,
June Days,
Half Japanese,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Swans,
Section 25,
The Busters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fortunes,
Lyres,
The Invisible,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Connie Case,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.