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 Honduras and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare,
Aloha Tigers,
Pole,
These Immortal Souls,
Hoover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
The Real Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Essential Logic,
Ultravox,
The Mummies,
Kurtis Blow,
the Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Gong,
John Holt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Terry,
Make Up,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Howard Jones,
Mandrill,
Porter Ricks,
Icehouse,
Mission of Burma,
Oblivians,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
Youth Brigade,
Amazonics,
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
The Skatalites,
Steve Hackett,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
Kenny Larkin,
Reuben Wilson,
Aaron Thompson,
Tommy Roe,
Lower 48,
Leonard Cohen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
China Crisis,
Jawbox,
Barrington Levy,
Babytalk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.