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 Ivory Coast and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Icehouse to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
World's Most,
Theoretical Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
KRS-One,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
F. McDonald,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
The Martian,
Ludus,
Das Ding,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soulsonic Force,
Davy DMX,
The Residents,
Country Teasers,
Robert Wyatt,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
John Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
One Last Wish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Severed Heads,
Essential Logic,
Organ,
Motorama,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Section 25,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Japan,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
The Birthday Party,
Tommy Roe,
Symarip,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
New Age Steppers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slits,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.