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 Russia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Simply Red to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Sister Nancy,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
Ponytail,
Q65,
June of 44,
Ronan,
World's Most,
KRS-One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Flag,
The United States of America,
Kaleidoscope,
The Last Poets,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skaos,
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Mad Mike,
Interpol,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Buckinghams,
Joyce Sims,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Roxette,
The Doors,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kurtis Blow,
Crash Course in Science,
Moss Icon,
Organ,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lalann,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders,
The Techniques,
Television Personalities,
Mark Hollis,
Magazine,
Black Moon,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.