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 Kazakhstan and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Ultimate Spinach to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Technova,
Dorothy Ashby,
Procol Harum,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Move,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
The Happenings,
Marmalade,
Ponytail,
The Trojans,
Magazine,
Jacques Brel,
Lungfish,
JFA,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Duran Duran,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
The Invisible,
Faust,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Q and Not U,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Victims,
These Immortal Souls,
The Index,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
the Soft Cell,
Jandek,
The Mummies,
Hasil Adkins,
Terry Callier,
the Sonics,
ABC,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fear,
Cymande,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fall,
Sparks,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.