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 Costa Rica and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the crunk 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
Warsaw,
The Evens,
Maurizio,
The Martian,
Black Sheep,
Gabor Szabo,
New York Dolls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T.S.O.L.,
Anakelly,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Cybotron,
The Busters,
Fluxion,
Fela Kuti,
Sparks,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Moody Blues,
Warren Ellis,
Scrapy,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q and Not U,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
The Seeds,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dual Sessions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slick Rick,
Interpol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fugazi,
The Associates,
Ornette Coleman,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lalann,
Minny Pops,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
The Offenders,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.