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 Germany and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Dawn Penn to the grunge 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Kayak,
The Moleskins,
Kurtis Blow,
Donald Byrd,
The Five Americans,
Accadde A,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stiv Bators,
One Last Wish,
ABC,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
World's Most,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
Albert Ayler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
UT,
Brick,
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Green,
The Barracudas,
Minor Threat,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Godley & Creme,
Judy Mowatt,
Henry Cow,
The Smiths,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Leaves,
Rites of Spring,
The Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lakeside,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Q65,
Unrelated Segments,
Wings,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade,
Bush Tetras,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
The Cure,
Banda Bassotti,
Patti Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Icehouse,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.