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 Kyrgyzstan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Panda Bear to the grime 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Pantaleimon,
Grey Daturas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nirvana,
The Standells,
Black Pus,
Lalann,
Clear Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Move,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jawbox,
Anakelly,
Brass Construction,
Adolescents,
Absolute Body Control,
Toni Rubio,
Reuben Wilson,
The Zeros,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ponytail,
Warren Ellis,
Blancmange,
U.S. Maple,
The Cowsills,
One Last Wish,
The Doors,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Index,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camberwell Now,
Siglo XX,
Susan Cadogan,
Janne Schatter,
Anthony Braxton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Basic Channel,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gap Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alice Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
PIL,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Toasters,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Lydon,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.