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 Dominican Republic and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Groovy Waters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Beau Brummels,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Sonics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Section 25,
Barry Ungar,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
Stetsasonic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bauhaus,
Yazoo,
Absolute Body Control,
Malaria!,
Letta Mbulu,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gun Club,
Saccharine Trust,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
Fugazi,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
Jerry's Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
OOIOO,
Man Eating Sloth,
Banda Bassotti,
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gichy Dan,
Moebius,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mark Hollis,
Hoover,
Laurel Aitken,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Crooked Eye,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Faraquet,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.