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 Burundi and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slits to the grime 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Quantec,
The Motions,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra,
Joe Smooth,
the Human League,
Derrick May,
Stereo Dub,
Nico,
Tears for Fears,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang of Four,
Pylon,
The Index,
Marmalade,
The Invisible,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sex Pistols,
Organ,
Babytalk,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
The Cowsills,
Dennis Brown,
Swell Maps,
Camouflage,
The Doors,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skriet,
The Five Americans,
Nik Kershaw,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Crooked Eye,
Agent Orange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Con Funk Shun,
Pole,
Rod Modell,
D'Angelo,
The Skatalites,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiohead,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.