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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bad Manners to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sight & Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nik Kershaw,
Barrington Levy,
Drexciya,
Fat Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Los Fastidios,
UT,
Rekid,
Judy Mowatt,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
Surgeon,
The Fuzztones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Skaos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gichy Dan,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Japan,
Cal Tjader,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Main Source,
Minnie Riperton,
Erasure,
The Fall,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Technova,
Agent Orange,
Brick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hasil Adkins,
The Barracudas,
Roxy Music,
10cc,
The Knickerbockers,
The Techniques,
Arcadia,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doors,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.