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 Djibouti and from Johannesburg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Womack,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Near,
The Leaves,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Second Layer,
Unrelated Segments,
Byron Stingily,
Silicon Teens,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Terry,
Alice Coltrane,
Nas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Symarip,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
The Monochrome Set,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Angry Samoans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Model 500,
Basic Channel,
R.M.O.,
Gang Starr,
The Buckinghams,
Magma,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Ituana,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Motorama,
CMW,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
Whodini,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Masters at Work,
Lakeside,
Simply Red,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pierre Henry,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.