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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Fatback Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonic Youth,
Easy Going,
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
Warren Ellis,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
Angry Samoans,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Livin' Joy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Wyatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Al Stewart,
New Order,
Eden Ahbez,
Visage,
Altered Images,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
Ornette Coleman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Y Pants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Chris & Cosey,
Nils Olav,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
Hashim,
Zero Boys,
The Happenings,
Vainqueur,
Lightning Bolt,
Gichy Dan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
Supertramp,
Nirvana,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Colin Newman,
Black Pus,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sonics,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.