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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Khruangbin to the rock 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Dennis Brown,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Flag,
Vainqueur,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Radiohead,
Gang of Four,
The Angels of Light,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Saints,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
L. Decosne,
Von Mondo,
Section 25,
Ornette Coleman,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Easy Going,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ohio Players,
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Quando Quango,
Khruangbin,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Index,
the Soft Cell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alton Ellis,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
The Evens,
Depeche Mode,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Sight & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Lynne,
The Electric Prunes,
Junior Murvin,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.