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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 CMW to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Mars,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Blake Baxter,
Pere Ubu,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
Sex Pistols,
The Residents,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
Patti Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Sällskapet,
Stiv Bators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Mad Mike,
Clear Light,
Sonic Youth,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Birthday Party,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
The Happenings,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Morten Harket,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
MDC,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alton Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Main Source,
Warren Ellis,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stetsasonic,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MC5,
Gabor Szabo,
Letta Mbulu,
the Slits,
Black Pus,
Excepter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.