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 Bahrain and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Boz Scaggs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arab on Radar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
One Last Wish,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
Eve St. Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
X-102,
DJ Style,
Von Mondo,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Bourne,
The Music Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gap Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonic Youth,
The Offenders,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neil Young,
Dawn Penn,
Man Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
The Leaves,
Warren Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Faraquet,
Joey Negro,
Japan,
Suburban Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Mandrill,
Smog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Hood,
Dual Sessions,
The Divine Comedy,
the Association,
Brand Nubian,
Shoche,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Clarke,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.