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 Rwanda and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Goldenarms,
The United States of America,
Patti Smith,
Grauzone,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
MDC,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sam Rivers,
Bang On A Can,
A Certain Ratio,
Icehouse,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Reuben Wilson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Loose Ends,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Average White Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
8 Eyed Spy,
The J.B.'s,
The Techniques,
Tommy Roe,
Eurythmics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.