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 Iran and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Copeland to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Cluster,
Visage,
The Neon Judgement,
Erykah Badu,
Slick Rick,
The Victims,
Quando Quango,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Youth Brigade,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
La Düsseldorf,
X-Ray Spex,
10cc,
The Cramps,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Franke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Green,
Skaos,
Roxy Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brand Nubian,
Thee Headcoats,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Flipper,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Heaven 17,
Nils Olav,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
Yaz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doors,
Absolute Body Control,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smoke,
PIL,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Black Moon,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.