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 Mongolia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker to the dance 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler,
Derrick May,
Cluster,
Urselle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Michelle Simonal,
The Tremeloes,
Kaleidoscope,
These Immortal Souls,
Q65,
Arab on Radar,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sandy B,
The Doobie Brothers,
Symarip,
Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Last Poets,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
The Blackbyrds,
Pere Ubu,
Black Flag,
Brothers Johnson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Parrish,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Arcadia,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
FM Einheit,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
Mandrill,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wire,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Inner City,
Bobby Byrd,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.