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 Brazil and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Mills,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Colin Newman,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Rakim,
Derrick May,
The Fugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Y Pants,
Delta 5,
Black Moon,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eurythmics,
Traffic Nightmare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Anakelly,
Connie Case,
Swans,
Henry Cow,
Tubeway Army,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
Soulsonic Force,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ponytail,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
Unwound,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
The Kinks,
Flipper,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Massinfluence,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.