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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 The Buckinghams to the electroclash 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lungfish,
Flash Fearless,
Rosa Yemen,
Harmonia,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Television,
Subhumans,
The Fall,
Skaos,
Fela Kuti,
The Victims,
Pulsallama,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DNA,
Scion,
Moebius,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gladiators,
Ludus,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
These Immortal Souls,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jimmy McGriff,
R.M.O.,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Easy Going,
Guru Guru,
Eric Dolphy,
Alison Limerick,
Roxy Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Jandek,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vladislav Delay,
Pole,
Royal Trux,
Young Marble Giants,
Kaleidoscope,
Second Layer,
Suicide,
Warsaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Deakin,
Animal Collective,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.