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 Iraq and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sound Behaviour to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Mojo Men,
kango's stein massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agent Orange,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
John Foxx,
Gerry Rafferty,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Grauzone,
Nik Kershaw,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
JFA,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
The Golliwogs,
The Doors,
Silicon Teens,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Derrick May,
Grey Daturas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Rufus Thomas,
Isaac Hayes,
The Red Krayola,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Don Cherry,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
Schoolly D,
Fela Kuti,
Monks,
Interpol,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
Clear Light,
Zapp,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
Bad Manners,
Von Mondo,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.