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 Salvador.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Knickerbockers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
Drexciya,
Pierre Henry,
Don Cherry,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Flash Fearless,
Lalann,
Colin Newman,
Underground Resistance,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Glenn Branca,
Saccharine Trust,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smiths,
Swell Maps,
Alton Ellis,
Echospace,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Enemy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nik Kershaw,
John Holt,
Yazoo,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Urselle,
Massinfluence,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Moon,
Pantytec,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Green,
The Human League,
Marine Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Model 500,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.