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 Cyprus and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Rakim,
X-101,
Lucky Dragons,
Eurythmics,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Hood,
Davy DMX,
Pantytec,
The Techniques,
Mad Mike,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gong,
Urselle,
Liliput,
Lakeside,
The Birthday Party,
Warren Ellis,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moss Icon,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The American Breed,
Unwound,
Skarface,
Arab on Radar,
Pierre Henry,
The Walker Brothers,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Kevin Saunderson,
Surgeon,
Chrome,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks,
Suicide,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers,
Ice-T,
Donald Byrd,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dead Boys,
The Human League,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.