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 South Africa and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
John Holt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Wally Richardson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
10cc,
Unrelated Segments,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scratch Acid,
Niagra,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Ten City,
Tubeway Army,
Marine Girls,
Rakim,
Skarface,
The Move,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fat Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Smog,
Roy Ayers,
Joyce Sims,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spoonie Gee,
Blossom Toes,
Au Pairs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare,
Harmonia,
Jeff Mills,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fall,
Matthew Halsall,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
Warren Ellis,
Main Source,
Spandau Ballet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.