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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kas Product to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
Marvin Gaye,
Bootsy Collins,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moleskins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shuggie Otis,
Wally Richardson,
Jandek,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
Scientists,
Mission of Burma,
Bronski Beat,
Los Fastidios,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blancmange,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cybotron,
Hashim,
Talk Talk,
Ronnie Foster,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
Circle Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
EPMD,
Piero Umiliani,
The Victims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
Agitation Free,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.