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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Oneida to the funk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Masters at Work,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Buckinghams,
The Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
The Tremeloes,
Erasure,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Intrusion,
The Moody Blues,
Colin Newman,
Brick,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Nas,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Audionom,
Sister Nancy,
The Slackers,
Faust,
Outsiders,
Ludus,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
X-102,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
Roxette,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Von Mondo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
DNA,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul II Soul,
Wings,
Scientists,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Copeland,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
OOIOO,
Zapp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantaleimon,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.