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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 F. McDonald to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tubeway Army,
Oneida,
Organ,
Subhumans,
The Busters,
Jerry's Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
Spoonie Gee,
Moby Grape,
Altered Images,
Ralphi Rosario,
Susan Cadogan,
The Victims,
Slave,
Lou Reed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Basic Channel,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Bourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Reuben Wilson,
Barbara Tucker,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Andrew Hill,
Mary Jane Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
One Last Wish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Niagra,
Motorama,
Excepter,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
Cameo,
The New Christs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eden Ahbez,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sällskapet,
Alton Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gong,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobbi Humphrey,
In Retrospect,
The Mummies,
The Beau Brummels,
A Certain Ratio,
the Germs,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.