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 United Kingdom and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Prince Buster to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
X-101,
Dave Gahan,
The Blackbyrds,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Audionom,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Alphaville,
Ronan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scientists,
Banda Bassotti,
Radio Birdman,
Suicide,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Victims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Steve Hackett,
The Gladiators,
Hasil Adkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
Smog,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Rotary Connection,
Donald Byrd,
Deakin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ralphi Rosario,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
Arcadia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Los Fastidios,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agitation Free,
Wings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
the Swans,
Mandrill,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.