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 Singapore and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Young Rascals to the funk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Icehouse,
Sound Behaviour,
Hasil Adkins,
Jawbox,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Jacques Brel,
Stetsasonic,
In Retrospect,
John Foxx,
cv313,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Basic Channel,
Aural Exciters,
The Victims,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
Rekid,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roger Hodgson,
Urselle,
Mo-Dettes,
OOIOO,
Animal Collective,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sandy B,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Suicide,
Tubeway Army,
Thompson Twins,
Terrestrial Tones,
E-Dancer,
World's Most,
Boredoms,
Warren Ellis,
Visage,
Make Up,
Barry Ungar,
Mission of Burma,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
UT,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
Franke,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric B and Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harmonia,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.