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 Papua New Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Agent Orange to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Tim Buckley,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Country Teasers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
The Pretty Things,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
Althea and Donna,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Eric Copeland,
Carl Craig,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Litter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Guru Guru,
Wally Richardson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Mr. Review,
Flipper,
Rites of Spring,
Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stereo Dub,
the Swans,
Babytalk,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
The Toasters,
Charles Mingus,
The Neon Judgement,
Sugar Minott,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
Radio Birdman,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Kayak,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.