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 Belize and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rock 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flipper,
Max Romeo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Prince Buster,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
Visage,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fuzztones,
Massinfluence,
Little Man,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Rakim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monks,
Motorama,
Qualms,
Moebius,
Pantytec,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Quantec,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
Mantronix,
The Modern Lovers,
Arthur Verocai,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Durutti Column,
Flash Fearless,
Pole,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
The Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.