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 Zimbabwe and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the rap 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Camberwell Now,
Eric Dolphy,
Rod Modell,
Monks,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
OOIOO,
Letta Mbulu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Flamin' Groovies,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blues Magoos,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Cale,
The Human League,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Skatalites,
Sonic Youth,
Crime,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
The Saints,
Lucky Dragons,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Jandek,
Marine Girls,
Loose Ends,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erasure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Radiohead,
Scientists,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Starr,
Archie Shepp,
Scratch Acid,
Amazonics,
Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
The Wake,
the Soft Cell,
Spoonie Gee,
Newcleus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Walker Brothers,
Motorama,
Janne Schatter,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.