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 Andorra and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Average White Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Excepter,
Chrome,
The United States of America,
The Doors,
The Gories,
Roxy Music,
Black Moon,
Mark Hollis,
The Searchers,
Nas,
Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Half Japanese,
Fluxion,
Cluster,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jeff Lynne,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
Stiv Bators,
cv313,
Thompson Twins,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
Letta Mbulu,
Television,
Ossler,
The Real Kids,
Tom Boy,
Yellowson,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
Little Man,
The Motions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Offenders,
Janne Schatter,
Derrick May,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
Niagra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roy Ayers,
The J.B.'s,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.