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 Kiribati and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Desert Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Bush Tetras,
Sun City Girls,
Section 25,
Gang Gang Dance,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
Zapp,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott Heron,
LL Cool J,
Popol Vuh,
X-102,
The Golliwogs,
the Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Icehouse,
Don Cherry,
Warren Ellis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The United States of America,
Morten Harket,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mojo Men,
Absolute Body Control,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force,
CMW,
The Fortunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Wolf Eyes,
Japan,
a-ha,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bluetip,
The Doors,
Nik Kershaw,
Sparks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smiths,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie,
Charles Mingus,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.