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 Kenya and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Scan 7 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Eli Mardock,
The Mojo Men,
Interpol,
The Gap Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Visage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Icehouse,
Nas,
Ronan,
Sarah Menescal,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Wells,
Sun City Girls,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
Graham Central Station,
the Association,
ABBA,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
The Moleskins,
The Offenders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rapeman,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Busters,
Bill Near,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
The Zeros,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
E-Dancer,
Max Romeo,
Basic Channel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quantec,
Accadde A,
Anakelly,
Peter and Kerry,
The Golliwogs,
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party,
Flipper,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.