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 Burundi and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Nils Olav to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bill Wells,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Excepter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Delta 5,
Con Funk Shun,
Scratch Acid,
Pole,
Mandrill,
Jerry's Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter and Kerry,
Chrome,
D'Angelo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cramps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
One Last Wish,
Alison Limerick,
Visage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Silicon Teens,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
The Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
E-Dancer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ten City,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun City Girls,
Joey Negro,
Adolescents,
B.T. Express,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Near,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Make Up,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brothers Johnson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.