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 Armenia and from Columbus.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Tropical Tobacco to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Radio Birdman,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joy Division,
Rapeman,
Swell Maps,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Howard Jones,
The Star Department,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric Copeland,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
The Neon Judgement,
Agent Orange,
Magma,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
Duran Duran,
Talk Talk,
Second Layer,
Oblivians,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
Q and Not U,
Patti Smith,
Oneida,
Pole,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Normal,
A Certain Ratio,
Junior Murvin,
Nico,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gabor Szabo,
Parry Music,
David Axelrod,
Joe Smooth,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Almond,
Warren Ellis,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.