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 Sweden and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Eddi Front,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Morten Harket,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
B.T. Express,
Quadrant,
Supertramp,
Lalo Schifrin,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
Parry Music,
Robert Görl,
Visage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Style,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blancmange,
the Bar-Kays,
Byron Stingily,
Rites of Spring,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Sound Behaviour,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gladiators,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Almond,
Blake Baxter,
Letta Mbulu,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slave,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sällskapet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
Gong,
The Barracudas,
John Lydon,
Amazonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liliput,
Drexciya,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Last Poets,
Ossler,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.