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 Equatorial Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Henry Cow to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists,
Negative Approach,
MC5,
The Pop Group,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Neu!,
Blancmange,
Cymande,
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joy Division,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Funkadelic,
the Germs,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
OOIOO,
Basic Channel,
The Mojo Men,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Black Sheep,
The Fortunes,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nico,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
X-101,
Avey Tare,
Terry Callier,
Gang of Four,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Intrusion,
Bobby Womack,
World's Most,
Bizarre Inc.,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
The Associates,
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
The Doors,
Sonic Youth,
Quando Quango,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Residents,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.