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 Taiwan and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Quando Quango,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
Amon Düül,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monolake,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aloha Tigers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grauzone,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hoover,
Roy Ayers,
Soulsonic Force,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
Fugazi,
Agent Orange,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eve St. Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Spandau Ballet,
Tom Boy,
Vladislav Delay,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Faraquet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moebius,
Black Pus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Moon,
Ludus,
The Cramps,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.