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 Brazil and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Ultravox,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Starr,
E-Dancer,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
UT,
Neu!,
Rotary Connection,
Mantronix,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Flipper,
Albert Ayler,
Davy DMX,
The Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Chrome,
Wasted Youth,
Pole,
Terry Callier,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
The Standells,
Reagan Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
Ituana,
The Pop Group,
Max Romeo,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
Tim Buckley,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amazonics,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
Toni Rubio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Prunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Bad Manners,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deepchord,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Sherman,
Bang On A Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.