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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grime 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lyres,
Slave,
Sound Behaviour,
The Electric Prunes,
The Move,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mission of Burma,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Andrew Hill,
The Names,
Kenny Larkin,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Wells,
Technova,
Idris Muhammad,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Prince Buster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jimmy McGriff,
The United States of America,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Althea and Donna,
Eve St. Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
Rapeman,
Chris Corsano,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Moebius,
Cecil Taylor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Yazoo,
Susan Cadogan,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Second Layer,
Bobby Womack,
Juan Atkins,
the Association,
Barrington Levy,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.