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 Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Television Personalities to the dance 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Piero Umiliani,
Camberwell Now,
Gichy Dan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry's Kids,
Soul II Soul,
Radio Birdman,
Lindisfarne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harmonia,
Letta Mbulu,
The Vogues,
Tim Buckley,
PIL,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Görl,
The Divine Comedy,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
Oneida,
The Offenders,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Warsaw,
Average White Band,
Gong,
Patti Smith,
Royal Trux,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
Animal Collective,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cameo,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
Todd Rundgren,
Rekid,
The Raincoats,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.