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 Mexico and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Stereo Dub,
Ituana,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Names,
Alton Ellis,
Supertramp,
Bronski Beat,
The Pop Group,
The Moleskins,
Rekid,
The Divine Comedy,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
Gabor Szabo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Bourne,
the Association,
Hardrive,
The United States of America,
Gong,
The Blackbyrds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Siglo XX,
Todd Terry,
Public Enemy,
Drexciya,
The Raincoats,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
ABBA,
MC5,
Brothers Johnson,
Joey Negro,
New York Dolls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Görl,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare,
Inner City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
The Grass Roots,
Absolute Body Control,
Von Mondo,
Tommy Roe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grauzone,
Glenn Branca,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fatback Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Martian,
The Cramps,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Todd Rundgren,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.