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 South Africa and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dave Clark Five to the dance 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Selecter,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABC,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Oblivians,
Ituana,
Rotary Connection,
Minnie Riperton,
New York Dolls,
Kas Product,
The Beau Brummels,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Gang Starr,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Procol Harum,
Half Japanese,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mojo Men,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
the Normal,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Visage,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Banda Bassotti,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gun Club,
Gang of Four,
The Human League,
The American Breed,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Offenders,
Agent Orange,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.