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 Libya and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Sound Behaviour to the grime 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Lucky Dragons,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kerri Chandler,
The Count Five,
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Fatback Band,
Rekid,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Velvet Underground,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
The Gap Band,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
Boredoms,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Motions,
Gang of Four,
Cecil Taylor,
Echospace,
Josef K,
Can,
The Fuzztones,
Connie Case,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
Roxette,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
The Fugs,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Leonard Cohen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Franke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Stooges,
Nas,
The Residents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terry Callier,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dirtbombs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Darondo,
Grey Daturas,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.