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 Israel and from London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dual Sessions to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Donny Hathaway,
Laurel Aitken,
Freddie Wadling,
Symarip,
Crash Course in Science,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
Ultra Naté,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crime,
The Victims,
Smog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Move,
Pussy Galore,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oneida,
The Techniques,
Severed Heads,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scientists,
Ralphi Rosario,
Maurizio,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Litter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Delta 5,
Sun City Girls,
Y Pants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
kango's stein massive,
Black Bananas,
the Bar-Kays,
The Walker Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
10cc,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gastr Del Sol,
Supertramp,
Funky Four + One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mantronix,
a-ha,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Lydon,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.