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 Micronesia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Holger Czukay 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 Black Moon to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Carl Craig,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Monolake,
The Fortunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amazonics,
CMW,
Model 500,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
Schoolly D,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alton Ellis,
Basic Channel,
Accadde A,
Jeff Lynne,
The Electric Prunes,
Fear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Deakin,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Public Image Ltd.,
Surgeon,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
Leonard Cohen,
Easy Going,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
Ronan,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Wells,
Duran Duran,
Alphaville,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
Davy DMX,
Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
Sugar Minott,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
The Sonics,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.