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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the grime 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skaos,
Funkadelic,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
Moss Icon,
Animal Collective,
Little Man,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
Silicon Teens,
Mad Mike,
Slick Rick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Duran Duran,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Ossler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
World's Most,
Quadrant,
Lucky Dragons,
Motorama,
Rosa Yemen,
New York Dolls,
Monks,
Quando Quango,
The Names,
Cybotron,
Mars,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dawn Penn,
The Residents,
the Germs,
Outsiders,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
Interpol,
Juan Atkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
The Tremeloes,
Archie Shepp,
Agitation Free,
Fear,
Unrelated Segments,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Jandek,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.