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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 K-Klass to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiohead,
Eric Dolphy,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
The Fall,
Cameo,
Isaac Hayes,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
The Trojans,
John Cale,
ABC,
Half Japanese,
the Soft Cell,
Television,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Reagan Youth,
MC5,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Hill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pylon,
Hardrive,
Arcadia,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doors,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moleskins,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
The Beau Brummels,
Joy Division,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quantec,
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang On A Can,
La Düsseldorf,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Barry Ungar,
Janne Schatter,
the Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.