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 Grenada and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
Gang Starr,
Surgeon,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jacques Brel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mojo Men,
Spoonie Gee,
Josef K,
Can,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joy Division,
Stiv Bators,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
Eurythmics,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
EPMD,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlback,
JFA,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sonics,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
Derrick May,
Moebius,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Happenings,
Bootsy Collins,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Bob Dylan,
Iggy Pop,
Kaleidoscope,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang of Four,
Symarip,
The Fugs,
Yaz,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
Qualms,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.