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 Switzerland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Gang Starr to the grime 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pussy Galore,
Main Source,
The Zeros,
Anakelly,
Half Japanese,
Bob Dylan,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dual Sessions,
Tears for Fears,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
The Motions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Busters,
MDC,
Delon & Dalcan,
Niagra,
Metal Thangz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Albert Ayler,
Yusef Lateef,
Rites of Spring,
Eve St. Jones,
Delta 5,
The Happenings,
Scientists,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Pus,
June Days,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Victims,
Mark Hollis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry's Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Nils Olav,
Jawbox,
Neu!,
Deakin,
DNA,
Sun Ra,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Hood,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Walker Brothers,
Glambeats Corp.,
CMW,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Funky Four + One,
Von Mondo,
Babytalk,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.