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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Y Pants to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
10cc,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rufus Thomas,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sparks,
Symarip,
Pantytec,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
A Certain Ratio,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Osbourne,
a-ha,
Ultra Naté,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
These Immortal Souls,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gap Band,
Bang On A Can,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Womack,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
Porter Ricks,
Slave,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unrelated Segments,
Joey Negro,
Marmalade,
Grey Daturas,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.