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 Monaco and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 Moby Grape to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
In Retrospect,
Todd Terry,
Iggy Pop,
Duran Duran,
The Grass Roots,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Second Layer,
MDC,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
Henry Cow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sister Nancy,
Groovy Waters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kayak,
Interpol,
Stereo Dub,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Faust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James White and The Blacks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed,
Section 25,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Bananas,
Ultra Naté,
The Toasters,
Excepter,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
Monolake,
Aural Exciters,
Can,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Guru Guru,
Patti Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kenny Larkin,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.